Birds of a Feather
by Solid Shark
Summary: The Grimaldi Falcon... Teenage college student, accomplished hacker... decorated war hero. Why has this ZAFT ace deserted, and what is he doing on Heliopolis? Time may reveal his secrets... AU novelization of Gundam SEED, rated for violence.
1. Chapter 1: Falcon Against the Stars

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco and his team

* * *

The Gray Demons. Officially known by their leader's name, they were almost never referred to by it. An elite team in the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty, they were formed at the beginning of the battles on the Grimaldi Front. They rapidly gained notoriety as one of the few teams that could stand up to the Earth Alliance Forces' 3rd Fleet and their elite Moebius Zero corps, including the feared Mu La Flaga. 

Their leader was a ZAFT veteran. One of the first recruits when ZAFT was first reorganized into a military organization, following the Mandelbrot Incident, his combat debut came during PLANT sponsor nations' attempted blockade of the colonies, in C.E. 69. A year later, he was present when Junius Seven was destroyed by a nuclear missile, and he was a member of the same team as Rau Le Creuset, during the battles at the space station Yggdrasil, at L4.

Following the Earth Forces attack on the resource satellite -and soon-to-be fortress- Jachin Due, this young but highly capable pilot was awarded the Order of the Nebula, and transferred to the new Lorentz Crater base on the Moon, to take command of his own team.

Within days, he earned the nickname "Grimaldi Falcon", for his distinctive slate-gray CGUE, dive-and-slash tactics, and haunting battle cry; and before long, Earth Forces pilots began to call the Falcon's unit the "Gray Demons". The thirteen men and women of the unit were said to be unstoppable.

Until the Battle of Endymion Crater.

* * *

It was the craziest furball since Jachin Due, the Grimaldi Falcon reflected, bringing his CGUE around and blasting a Moebius out of existence with his machine gun. But they were in mobile suits, while the Earth Forces languished in their pathetic mobile armors.

Winning,_ the Falcon thought bitterly. _Sure we are, but paying a major butcher's bill for it.

He cursed, seeing one of his men go down. "Watch it!" he shouted. "We may have the upper hand, but if you let your guard down you'll end up dead."

"Under-"

The voice cut off, and the Falcon glanced at his displays. "Russo! Blast it, Sparky, what happened to Russo?"

His second-in-command, Lance "Sparky" Cooper, sighed. "One of the Zeros got him, Boss. I don't think he got out."

Blast! This is _not_ going well,_ the Falcon thought. _That's two men down already.

_Drawing his CGUE's massive sword, he lopped a Moebius in half while simultaneously shredding a Zero with his left arm-mounted Gatling gun. Then he opened his mouth, and uttered an inhuman, ascending wail over the radio._

_The hunting call of a peregrine falcon was not something normally heard on a battlefield, particularly in space. But some would recognize it for what it was, and the voice of one of them came over the Falcon's speaker. "Grimaldi Falcon, eh? It's time we finished this."_

_Falcon's eyes narrowed; he knew that voice. "Indeed, Mu La Flaga. I'm getting tired of your interference." He switched frequencies for a moment. "Sparky, you're in charge; I've got to swat a bothersome fly."_

_The only reply was a pair of clicking sounds; the pilots' universal acknowledgment._

_Mu La Flaga's Moebius Zero angled in on the slate-gray CGUE; as it did so, the pilot deployed his wired gunbarrels, attempting to encircle his adversary._

_"I don't think so," Falcon whispered. His own powers of spatial awareness were very good, maybe even as good as Mu's. He kept track of the incoming weapons with relative ease, and managed to perforate one with his machine gun; his sword was, of course, useless now._

_He had to juke left to dodge a shot from the Zero's linear cannon, then perform a complicated spin to avoid another wired gunbarrel. Falcon had the advantage of being a Coordinator and flying a mobile suit, but Mu's skills were among the best of any Natural, and he was one of the few who could use a Moebius Zero to its fullest potential._

_Mu used those advantages ruthlessly now, keeping the Falcon on his toes. It wasn't the first time they'd clashed, on the Grimaldi Front; both were determined that it be the last._

_They got their wish._

_"Commander!" Sparky called. "Radiation levels are going up like a rocket! Something's not right here, Boss!"_

_Falcon spared a moment's attention for his displays, and his face paled. He was picking up_ extremely_ high levels of microwave radiation, something not usually associated with a battlefield._ Unless... Oh, they couldn't! Not with their own people here!

_But there was only one explanation that made any sense: the weapon ZAFT Intelligence had heard rumors of, the Cyclops System. The giant microwave generator that would wipe out everything in range, be it friend or foe._

_Falcon keyed his radio. "Gray Demons, fall back, fall back! This place is gonna be a blast furnace in under three minutes! Everyone out,_ now!"_ He switched channels. "La Flaga, we'll have to finish this another time; I suggest you get yourself out of here before you get fried."_

Without waiting to see if the Zero broke off its attack, Falcon spun around and applied all power to thrusters. He knew his decision to warn an enemy of his own imminent demise would be criticized, but there was an honor among pilots that went back centuries; he would not break it now.

Now he needed only to get out alive himself.

Radiation levels continued to rise, and the Earth Forces resource base beneath Endymion Crater began to explode. The blastfront moved steadily across the crater, engulfing everything in its path; GINNs, CGUEs, Moebiuses and Zeros alike vanished in flames. Falcon cursed as another of his people -Alicia Sharpe, this time- exploded without time to scream.

Then the vast wall of heat reached his own machine, and things started to detonate. Falcon felt a searing pain in his heart, and he just had to time realize it was physical pain, not anguish, before everything went black, and he knew no more.

* * *

Orb Resource Satellite Heliopolis, January 25th, C.E. 71

* * *

Kenneth "Falcon" DiFalco shot bolt upright in bed, gasping, soaked in sweat. 

It had happened again. Yet another night ruined by nightmares; memories of terror and pain. "Get _over_ it, Falcon," he told himself, getting out of bed. "Endymion was seven months and twenty-three days ago. Your war is over, soldier."

Falcon was seventeen, 176 centimeters tall, with medium brown hair and Prussian blue eyes; a nasty scar ran diagonally across his left eye socket. He'd come to Heliopolis in September of the previous year, along with his parents, and enrolled in a technical college as a way of keeping busy and out of sight. He had good reason for wanting to remain somewhat... anonymous.

Now, at 0700 hours, it was time for him to get ready for his day. _Probably uneventful,_ he thought. _Not that that's a bad thing, all considering; now I understand how Sophia feels._ Not that Falcon had seen his sister recently. He still got the occasional message, but Sophia DiFalco, nine years his senior, had effectively vanished from his life eight years earlier, when she entered a science academy. Even after graduating, Sophia had mostly stayed away, living on her own who-knew-where, doing who-knew-what.

Falcon wasn't particularly concerned. They'd never been _that_ close, and he had his own problems. The scar on his face was the least of them.

But for right now, I'd better get ready or the Prof will have my head.

After taking care of a few necessities, Falcon pulled on his usual slate-gray trousers, t-shirt, and boots, before going over to his desk and examining a few other items... like the Order of the Nebula that sat in a prominent place. He took it from its case, hung it around his neck, and slipped the golden medal itself into his shirt, where it wouldn't be noticed.

That done, he slipped the black polymer eyepatch over his left eye socket, and reached for the short sword that also rested on the desktop. It was slightly curved, with a red-twined handle over pale ray skin, and a matching red scabbard; anyone familiar with ZAFT top-gun uniforms would have noted the Japanese wakizashi matched the color of said uniforms. He also possessed the longer blade, the katana, but it was presently far, far away.

Falcon stuck the weapon in his belt, edge-up. That left one more small item, and he looked at the shoulder-holstered machine pistol with a measure of distaste. "Man, I hate these things." Not that he subscribed to the idea that guns killed people, of course; he simply had a few bad memories about them.

Nonetheless, he strapped on the shoulder holster and the grabbed his backpack. Only part of it was used for his college assignments; it was mostly filled with certain items he didn't want left behind in an emergency.

Finally, he pulled on a slate-gray trench coat and matching gloves, completing the ensemble. He was as ready for his day as he could be.

_Except for one thing,_ Falcon thought, remembering. Before leaving the room, he picked up a small, handheld computer. Something of an accomplished hacker, he had a specific task in mind this day. An old acquaintance of his, someone he'd met over the global networks before the N-jammers made them inaccessible, had asked him for help obtaining some data; they were to meet at the college.

Well, then; time to go.

Without a backward glance, he swept out of the room and the house; his parents would already be at work, so there was no need to say goodbye.

Falcon had no idea he would never see them again.

* * *

Kira Yamato, Tolle Koenig, and Miriallia Haw were likewise on their way to the college. Kira was in a relatively dour mood; Professor Kato had dumped yet another special project on him, when he hadn't even finished the last one yet. 

The three were nearing a mass transit station when Falcon ran into them. "Hey, Falcon," Tolle greeted him. The relative newcomer to Heliopolis wasn't exactly a friend of theirs; in fact, he hardly said a word, and what he did say tended to be delivered quite emotionlessly. But he seemed to be a nice enough guy, if you got past the icy exterior.

"Tolle," Falcon replied with a nod. "Miriallia... Kira..." His one-eyed gaze and toneless voice were forbidding, especially coming from someone so young, but after fours months they were used to it. "Going my way?"

"Yeah," Mir answered. "Care to join us?" She, for one, was somewhat intrigued by how the youth spoke so coolly, yet used casual syntax and grammar; and she was determined to sometime get _some_ kind of reaction out of him.

"Sure." Falcon's good eye narrowed, seeing the trio of teenage girls standing in front of the station. _Huh. That would be Flay Allster and clique,_ he thought. _Typical gossiping behavior, I see._ After the last year or so, there was little trace of the carefree teenager left in Falcon DiFalco.

They nattered on for a few moments, then Flay's companions turned to Mir and rather energetically asked a question; something about a letter to Flay from one Sai Argyle, another of Falcon's new classmates.

_They have no idea how sheltered they are,_ he thought._ They live here, in this "neutral" colony, with no understanding of just how quickly that could change... especially if ZAFT were to get hold of the information I uncovered._

Falcon's thoughts were interrupted by a clearing throat behind them. "Ahem... if you're just going to stand there, do you mind if _we_ get through?"

He flicked his cyclops-like gaze over the black-haired woman and her two male companions, all of whom wore sunglasses. _Military,_ Falcon thought. _No mistaking it. They must be part of the G-weapons project._

Calmly, he stepped aside. "After you... Ma'am."

The woman shot him a sharp glance before nodding and stepping past. _Who is he, and how much can he know?_

Ignoring the chattering teenage girls, Natarle Badgiruel, Arnold Neumann, and Jackie Tonomura climbed into the mass transit car that waited in the street.

"Just look around this place," Badgiruel commented as they left. "So peaceful."

Neumann raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

The black-haired Earth Forces Ensign pulled off her sunglasses. "To think there are already people as young as them fighting on the frontlines." She glanced back the way they had come. "There was something strange about one of them," she added. "That kid in gray, with the eyepatch... he knows something."

Neumann shrugged. "Why worry about it? I mean, he can't know anything about the G-weapons... can he?"

"There _was_ that hacking incident the other day," Badgiruel pointed out. "I know it doesn't look like he got anything, and we managed to isolate the data on the sixth unit before he could get that deep, but you never know... Oh, well. He probably just thought we looked military; probably nothing to worry about."

In the coming months, she would be very glad that this young man had deduced certain things.

Back at the station, Flay and her companions had gotten into another vehicle and driven off. "That Sai," Tolle said cheerfully. "He sent her a letter." He abruptly turned and clapped Kira's shoulders. "Looks like you have some competition, Kira Yamato!" Laughing, he and Mir walked to the next car.

"But really, I'm not!" Kira protested futilely, following after them.

_Kids,_ Falcon thought, taking up the rear._ Only a year younger than me, yet so innocent... but then, war has yet to touch on their lives, as it has mine._ He nodded to himself._ Yes...one day, I shall return to the PLANTs. One day, my sin shall be atoned for... even if it costs me my life._

* * *

Transport vessel, Seventh Orbital Fleet, Heliopolis Harbor

* * *

"There you have it," the rust-bucket's Captain, a jovial old Brit, said cheerfully. "This old girl has just completed her final mission. You served admirably as an escort, Lieutenant La Flaga." 

"Thank you, sir," Lieutenant Mu La Flaga, Earth Forces 7th Fleet, said. "But I'm just glad we made it here without incident." He lifted an eyebrow. "Any ZAFT forces in the area?"

"Two ships, a _Nazca_ and a _Laurasia_," the Captain replied. "Nothing to worry about, though; they know they can't attack us once we're docked."

"Because it's neutral territory?" Mu sniffed, mildly disgusted. "What a joke _that_ is."

The Captain laughed. "Well, it's thanks to them that our plans have progressed this far. We should be thankful Earth has recognized Orb as a nation."

"Especially since Orb would have been very irritated if we hadn't," Mu pointed out. "They may be small, but their technology is better than ours... and trying to annex them could bring ZAFT in on their side."

"True enough."

"Sir." One of five other men on the ship's Bridge, all in blue jumpsuits, saluted. "If you'll excuse us, Captain."

The Captain nodded, and Mu watched the five men go. "You sure they can handle themselves, alone on the ground?"

The older man laughed. "I know they're young, but they're all top guns selected to be G-pilots. They'll be just fine. Besides," he added with a grin, "someone like you would stick out like a sore thumb."

"That's true," the man known as the Hawk of Endymion admitted. "But there's still something..."

The Captain looked at him sidelong. "You're still worried about _him_, aren't you? The pilot who nearly killed you, at Endymion?"

"It wasn't just Endymion; we tangled a few times before that. But yeah. Him."

"You're worrying over nothing, Lieutenant. The Grimaldi Falcon hasn't been seen since the fighting at Nova, last July. Come on, man, if he was still alive we'd know it."

"I suppose so..."

Still, Mu couldn't help but be nervous. The last time the Earth Forces had assumed the Grimaldi Falcon dead, after rumors of his severe injuries at Endymion, he'd made them pay for the assumption, at the resource satellite Nova; originally owned by the Republic of East Asia, it was now the space fortress Boaz, guarding the PLANT homeland, and the Grimaldi Falcon had played a not inconsiderable role in bringing about that particular ZAFT victory.

_Never pays to underestimate the grayest of all the Gray Demons,_ he thought._ No _way_ is he dead._

* * *

Morgenroete College Campus, Heliopolis

* * *

"It's no big deal," Tolle was saying to Kira, as the vehicle approached the Morgenroete gate. "You can just ask him." 

"_No_," Kira replied forcefully, "and that's final."

"Hmph," his brown-haired friend grunted in exasperation. "Doesn't sound like you're gonna ask; so I guess _I'll_ have to do it."

"Tolle, you're being a pest."

"You could consider minding your own business," Falcon suggested quietly. "Or would you prefer to keep teasing Kira until he gets irritated enough to throttle you?"

Tolle shot a glance at the one-eyed youth, but he was still expressionless. _I'll _never_ figure this guy out, will I?_

A couple of minutes later, the foursome entered one of the laboratory areas. "Ah, Kira," Sai greeted. "You finally made it." Nearby, black-haired Kuzzey Buskirk merely waved.

Kira, still a little unnerved by Tolle's teasing, didn't meet Sai's eyes; instead he glanced around the room, and noted the teenager with blonde hair and malachite green eyes, standing against one wall. _Huh?_

He wasn't the only one to notice her; and Cagalli Yula, as she was calling herself, noticed Falcon in turn. She wasn't surprised when he walked over to her. "You're Falcon?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "And you'd be Cagalli Yula." It wasn't a question.

Identities established -neither realized the other was operating under a false one- Cagalli looked about to make sure no one was listening. "You have the data?"

Falcon nodded, and drew the small computer from a coat pocket. "You were right," he said in a low tone. "Morgenroete is constructing five prototype mobile suits for the Earth Alliance, and a new class of mobile assault ship to carry them." He tapped the screen, holding it where she could see. "GAT-X102 Duel. The most basic of the five, it's equipped with Phase-shift armor, as are the others, which makes it effectively immune to kinetic weapons; its only weakness is energy fire. This machine is equipped with 75 millimeter CIWS Igelstellungs, two beam sabers, an anti-beam shield, and a 57 millimeter beam rifle with grenade launcher." The image changed. "X103 Buster. Designed for long-range attacks, it is equipped with two shoulder-mounted missile pods, a gun launcher, and a high-energy focused beam rifle. These two weapons can be combined to form either an anti-armor shotgun or a hyper-impulse sniper rifle." Another change. "X207 Blitz. Intended for blitzkrieg seek-and-destroy missions, it has a feature known as Mirage Colloid, which renders the machine effectively invisible to all current methods of detection. Its weapons consist of the Gleipnir piercer lock and the Trikeros system: beam rifle, beam saber, and three kinetic penetrator lancer darts." He touched the screen yet again. "X303 Aegis. With a frame fundamentally different from its fellows, this command unit can transform into a mobile armor, equipped with a 580 millimeter multi-phase energy cannon; in mobile suit mode it has Igelstellungs, four beam sabers, and a beam rifle. And finally, this." Falcon changed the image one last time. "X105 Strike. In its most basic loadout, it is equipped only with Igelstellungs, a beam rifle, and a pair of Armor Schneider assault knives, stowed in the hip armor. However, when equipped with one of three so-called 'Striker packs', it is potentially the most dangerous of the five, with weaponry ranging from a fifteen-meter-long anti-ship blade to a 320 millimeter hyper-impulse cannon."

Cagalli studied the data carefully, trying to keep her face composed. _Father, how _could_ you? We're supposed to be _neutral_, and yet you're-_

"Relax," Falcon said softly. He didn't know what was bothering her, but he didn't really need to. "I don't think this will drag Orb into the war, if that is what you're worried about. From what I know of Chief Representative Athha, he'd find it simple enough to disavow any knowledge of Morgenroete's actions... and the PLANTs would buy it, too."

"How would _you_ know?" she demanded.

He shrugged enigmatically. "It is my business to know that." Falcon jerked his head at the door to the facility's hallways. "If you want to see it with your own eyes, I have the access codes to get into the hanger. It might even be a good idea; my data is incomplete."

Cagalli tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"There was one last file I was unable to access," he explained. "When I tried, the computer physically isolated itself from the rest of the network; which makes me wonder if there's something else in there." _It would be just like those treacherous bastards in the Earth Forces,_ he didn't add.

Before Cagalli could reply, or even think of one, the alarms went off.

* * *

Transport vessel, Seventh Orbital Fleet, Heliopolis Harbor

* * *

"ZAFT?" Mu asked. 

The ship's Captain nodded. "Two vessels, _Nazca_ and _Laurasia_-class. Confirmed deployment of mobile suits prior to jamming of communications."

"Figures." He was in his flight suit now, cradling his helmet with its distinctive white feather emblem under his arm. "Have Luke and Gayle board their Moebius units," he instructed. "Don't deploy them yet!"

Without waiting for a reply, he left the Bridge, heading for his own machine. _This is bad. Well, could be worse; looks to be the Le Creuset team, which means the Grimaldi Falcon won't be here; last I heard, he had his own team._

Of course, things could have changed; if so, Mu and his men were in for a world of hurt. The Moebius pilot hadn't been born who could take on the Grimaldi Falcon solo or even in tandem, and Mu was the only Zero pilot left, after Endymion.

_Then we'd just better hope he _isn't_ here._

* * *

Morgenroete College Campus, Heliopolis

* * *

Falcon realized before anyone else in the room what was going on; his little hacking device had picked up the effects of the N-jammers. 

"ZAFT is attacking," he announced calmly. "It would be wise to evacuate this area, immediately."

"You'll get no argument from me," Tolle concurred. "Let's go!"

Dropping what they were doing, the five students, led by Sai, headed back into the hallway, trailed by Falcon and Cagalli. They went quickly to an emergency stairwell, which was already filling up with evacuees.

"What's going on?" Sai demanded of the first person he saw.

"I don't know," the man replied, not missing a stride.

"It's ZAFT," Falcon repeated. He listened for a moment. "Mobile suits have entered the colony; GINNs, from the sound of it."

Cagalli's eyes widened. "You're sure?" she whispered. He silently nodded. "Then I think it's time you showed me those machines."

Falcon nodded again, and they took off running down a side passage.

Kira saw them go. "Hey, wait! Where are you going?" He quickly headed off after them, ignoring Tolle's protests.

* * *

Transport vessel hanger, Seventh Orbital Fleet, Heliopolis Harbor

* * *

"Lieutenant La Flaga!"

The Captain's voice came over the radio as Mu strapped himself into his Moebius Zero's cockpit. "Launch the ship," he ordered; the older man might have been in charge of the ship, but Mu was the combat veteran here. "The harbor's about to be taken over. I'm launching, too."

_Now I wonder,_ he mused, powering up his mobile armor._ Which is worse? Rau Le Creuset or the Grimaldi Falcon? Arguably, the Gray Demons were the best... but they were virtually wiped out at Endymion. Either way, this won't be easy._

* * *

Morgenroete factory, Heliopolis

* * *

Falcon quickly noticed Kira, coming up from behind, but decided to ignore him; Cagalli, on the other hand, glanced back at him in irritation. "What are you doing? Stop tailing us!" 

"It's a dead end back there," Kira protested. "Going that way won't do you any good."

"You know not of what you speak," Falcon said calmly. "As a matter of fact, we have business in that direction; I'd tell you to go back, but-"

Something exploded nearby, causing all three of them to stumble, and blowing the beret off Cagalli's head, setting loose the mass of blonde hair.

Kira, recovering his footing, stared at her. "You're a... a girl," he said intelligently.

Instant irritation. "Yeah, so what? What'd you think I was, huh?"

"We don't have time for this," Falcon pointed out. "As I was saying, Kira, I would tell you to go back, but I believe the nearest shelters are on our route. Let's go."

He took off running again, trench coat flapping behind him, and the other two followed him. "I just... never thought we'd get involved," Cagalli said softly. "I mean, we're neutral..."

"Don't worry," Kira reassured her. "Once we get to the shelters we'll be fine." He glanced ahead at Falcon. "Though I don't know if he even intends to use one..."

They soon came to a locked door; something which did not faze Falcon in the slightest. He simply pulled out his computer, attached a narrow cable, and went to work. "Door... unlocked."

Cagalli was the first through, and she despaired, seeing with her own eyes the machines Falcon had told her of. "So it's true... the Earth Forces' prototype mobile suits... Father, I knew you betrayed us all!"

Falcon's keen eye caught sight of movement atop the X105 Strike. "Down!" he said sharply, dragging his companions out of the line of fire.

Lieutenant Murrue Ramius, Earth Forces, lowered her rifle when she realized who she'd nearly shot. "Those were children? And that one... he looks familiar..."

"Crying won't help you," Kira told Cagalli; they were moving under their own power again. "Now come on!"

"Wait," Falcon said. His eyes went to another door. "Kira, you get Cagalli out; I've got business elsewhere."

Kira blinked, confused. "Huh? Wait a minute-"

"Just do it," the one-eyed teen said calmly. "I have something else to do here." He advanced to the door, bringing out his computer again. "I can handle myself."

Kira had not the slightest idea what was going on. He'd expected that this rock-like youth would show at least _some_ reaction to this situation, but he didn't. Just as calm and collected as always, as if he'd been in a battle before.

It was fairly immaterial, though. Falcon seemed determined to continue on. "Okay, then. But be careful, okay?" He didn't know the other teenager very well, but he didn't want to see him dead

He turned, heading back toward the factory floor with Cagalli, while Falcon began work on the door. _Let's see... A simple enough lock, though I imagine it would do fine against most people; and on the other side... Hm._

There appeared to be several ZAFT soldiers on the other side of the door, which meant he was about to have problems.

Falcon opened the door.

Waiting on the other side were indeed several men in ZAFT green, and they whirled at the sight of the youth in the gray trench coat. "Hold it, you-"

Falcon felt a twinge of fear, but then took a deep breath. _Find the center,_ he thought, remembering his martial arts training. _Find the center, and-_

His training took over, and his body was on autopilot.

The first man went down with a roundhouse kick to the jaw, breaking his teeth and his neck; the second got off a shot, catching Falcon just above his right hip.

He staggered, but recovered, grabbed the soldier's arm, and yanked, dislocating it; a knife hand to the neck finished him, and Falcon turned to the third.

The third soldier saw what happened to his comrades, and he decided to do something drastic: he reached for a grenade, and pulled the pin.

_Idiot!_ Falcon thought, and moved quickly for the door to the next room._ When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is _not_ our-_

The grenade exploded, killing the man who held it and propelling Falcon through the door; the _closed_ door, that is.

He hit the floor in a heap and just lay there for a moment. _Now I remember why I never joined the infantry, _he thought muzzily. _Ouch._

It was about then that he realized his trench coat was on fire, and pulled himself to his feet. "Wonderful," Falcon muttered, and ditched the smoldering coat in a hurry.

"Hey, you! Stop!"

Falcon turned quickly, and spotted the lone man in green coming at them, assault rifle raised. "Can't have that." His hand went to his side, and in a single, smooth motion, he drew his wakizashi.

That stopped the ZAFT soldier in his tracks. "You!"

"Yes, me." Falcon ghosted forward, blade ready in a two-handed grip. "I don't know you, but I'm sure you know me."

The soldier looked stunned and betrayed, and Falcon knew precisely why. "Traitor!"

"I never betrayed the PLANTs; everything I do is for their safety." Falcon's eye narrowed. "Unfortunately, that means I must do this." The blade flashed out.

After the meaty thump and the sound of head and body hitting the floor separately, he closed his eyes and tried to get control of his breathing. He felt ill, and had to fight back the nausea. "Come on, Falcon," he told himself. "It's not the first time you've killed, and it won't be the last. Get a grip."

But it _was_ only the second time he'd used the blade to kill... and the first time had been completely different.

Once before, along with his best friend, the blond-haired son of a member of the PLANT Supreme Council, Falcon had been in a life-or-death situation on the ground. That day, he and his friend had been forced to kill; but that had been by hand, foot, and commandeered pistol. Never before had Falcon used his sword training in a true battle, and it made him sick.

He pushed it down, though, and forced himself to continue on.

Falcon had moved no more than five steps before he realized he was on a catwalk, and that there was an opening leading into the huge container next to him. A container big enough to hide a mobile suit...

_Of course,_ he realized._ The data I couldn't access... a sixth prototype..._

Moving quickly, Falcon tossed his wakizashi into the cockpit and yanked his backpack open. From it, he pulled a flight suit; cut in ZAFT top gun styling, it had several distinct differences: the helmet's visor, like Mu La Flaga's, showed only a narrow strip over his eyes, and the suit itself, where a standard was colored red with gray trim, was instead slate gray with black trim.

And on the black helmet was an emblem: a pair of gray feathers...

With the ease of long practice, he pulled on the flight suit, then ducked into the cockpit. "Well, well. Fancy rig." Unlike the other five prototypes, there was a second seat in the rear, which he ignored for now; he was far more interested in the state-of-the-art displays around the pilot's seat.

Falcon sat down, strapped in, and pulled a cable from his flight suit. It was nonstandard, and appeared to be a power cable; whatever it was, he attached it to the mobile suit's power supply, and turned his attention to the controls.

"A little different from what I'm used to, but a mobile suit is a mobile suit, even if it is an Earth Forces machine with a horrendous OS..."

He was prepared for that eventuality, however; after seeing the data on the first five machines, he'd written up a replacement operating system -purely as an intellectual exercise, he'd thought at the time. Now, it just might save his life.

Within moments, the OS had been uploaded, overwriting the previous program, and Falcon turned his attention to the mobile suit's specifications. "Hmm... GAT-X107 Raptor..." he murmured, bringing up an image of the machine. In appearance, it closely resembled the Strike, but with a hardwired, modified Aile Striker pack on the back, and a Panzer Eisen rocket anchor, like that of the Sword Striker pack, permanently mounted on the machine's left arm.

The changes to the Aile module were quite interesting: a pair of what appeared to be beam cannons were mounted on top, and four pods of some kind were attached to it, one on each of the vernier modules. _That's peculiar..._

Falcon brought up an equipment list, and nodded appreciatively. _Rocket anchor, beam rifle, Igelstellungs, beam sabers, the two cannons, Armor Schneiders... Phase shift armor... Death Blossom System? That... that looks like... Can it be?_

The so-called "Death Blossom system" was the four strange pods; and when activated, they revealed themselves to be self-propelled remote beam emitters, tethered to the mobile suit with control wires.

In other words, it was an energy version of a Moebius Zero's wired gunbarrels. A weapon which only Mu La Flaga could use... or someone with nearly identical kinesthesia scores...

Falcon smiled to himself, something he would never have done around other people. "If the other five machines are this good, the Earth Forces will have a fight on their hands, with at least three in ZAFT's possession..."

Then he remembered why _he_ had left ZAFT, and his smile faded. "Of course, that means I have to fight ZAFT myself..."

What he sought was, above all, the safety and independence of the PLANTs. But Falcon violently disagreed with how some of his former superiors wanted to handle it; they wanted to go too far... so Falcon now fought for a balance. He fought to achieve a draw between the two sides, one which would force them to the negotiating table... one which would force the Naturals to grant the PLANTs their freedom, yet leave Earth intact.

So I have to bring about a quick end to this war... before they perfect N-jammer Cancellers and unleash GENESIS upon the world... Those bastards!

Falcon took a deep breath, using the techniques he had always known (but never from _where_ he knew them) to push back his anger... and his sheer terror. "Forget it," he whispered. "N-jammer Cancellers are still far from workable, and without them GENESIS cannot be used. As long as that remains true, you still have a chance."

Pushing aside his emotions completely, Falcon gripped the controls, caressing them. _Oh, it has been far, far too long since I last flew... Though I must now face my former comrades, my purpose remains the same. Therefore... it is time to leave._

He brought the Raptor to life, and began to press forward against the enclosing container. Falcon was going back to war.

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Interior

* * *

X107 Raptor burst through to the colony's interior, through a hole some other mobile suit had apparently blasted. From the utter absence of both the X105 Strike and X303 Aegis, Falcon had his suspicions in that regard. _Someone else already got them. But who? That woman who shot at us, for one... but who else? And did Kira and that Cagalli girl get to safety?_

He paused, standing in place while he evaluated the current situation; according to his machine's instruments, there were two... no, three mobile suits in the immediate vicinity. Two were G-weapons; the X105 Strike and X303 Aegis, according to the computer; just as he'd expected. The third was a GINN; judging from the way _it_ was behaving, the Aegis had been captured.

Curious, Falcon activated Raptor's radio receiver, careful not to transmit by mistake, and listened in.

"Athrun!" one voice called, sounded either relieved or satisfied.

Whichever it was, "Athrun's" next words spoiled it. "Rusty failed," he said. "The other machine has been boarded by an Earth Forces officer."

The GINN's pilot grunted in surprise. "What?"

"Also," Athrun went on, "be aware that there's someone else out here; the sixth prototype seems to be missing, and several of our people are dead."

"Roger that." The pilot grunted again. "Okay, then. I'll capture this machine. Athrun, you make sure and get yours out of here; Commander Le Creuset wouldn't want it damaged."

Falcon watched as, following the exchange, the GINN prepared itself for combat with the Strike. _You're way out of your league, with _that_ machine,_ he thought, assimilating the data he'd just gathered. _Rau, huh? Figures... and "Athrun" must be Athrun Zala; I remember him from the time I gave that lecture at the academy... and that other voice..._

He frowned. "That was Miguel Aiman," he murmured. "The Magic Bullet of Dusk; didn't know _he_ was with Rau's team these days." He'd served with the man, a long while before.

Falcon's first instinct was to arm his weapons and go to Miguel's aid, but he quickly forced it down. _You can't, birdbrain,_ he told himself. _ZAFT already has four G-weapons; if there's to be an semblance of parity, Earth must keep the Strike._ His fists clenched on the controls. _So if it comes down to it, _I_ must fight Miguel._

So he settled back to wait, and watch; and resolved that if the battle went badly for the Strike, _he_ would take its place, and blast Miguel to oblivion.

It is my duty... As I swore to my fallen comrades, I will not let the Revolution end like this. Far worse than a defeat, would such a victory be.

Fortunately, it didn't appear that his intervention would be necessary. Though it had at first moved clumsily, the Strike had now taken on a life of its own, first smashing a fist into the GINN's face, then taking flight to dodge machine gun fire; and Miguel seemed off-balance, thanks to the PSA.

"This guy's good..." Falcon murmured. "Not the same person who was in control at first, though. Not with _those_ moves... Could it be Kira?" _Kira... Athrun's long-lost Coordinator friend... Yes, it could be him... it _must_ be him..._

The battle was over almost before it began. Falcon watched with professional interest as the Strike drew both Armor Schneiders, zigzagged in close to Miguel, and lashed out with the weapons, burying one in the GINN's right shoulder and the other in its neck.

Instantly, the machine's arms fell to its sides, and it stood still; then, after a pause, during which the Strike backed off a pace, the hatch blew out.

"He's ejecting..." Falcon whispered. "Which means... Idiot! Get away from there!"

Even had his radio been on, the warning would have come too late. Miguel Aiman's abandoned GINN exploded, rocking the Strike back. Though it did no actual damage, thanks to the Phase-shift, Falcon imagined it wasn't a pleasant experience for whoever was in the cockpit.

He figured he was correct when he noticed the Strike wasn't moving. "Must have been a real nice crack on the head... Now what? Should I reveal myself now, or let him go on his way?"

Falcon was well and truly torn. To reveal himself now would be tantamount to admitting to whoever that pilot was that _he_ was a former ZAFT pilot... and if the Earth Forces pilot were the type to hold a grudge, and knew enough to recognize _exactly_ who Falcon was, the one-eyed pilot could well end up very, very dead.

_I wait,_ he finally decided._ Once the machine shuts down, I'll come. Then, I'll have a better chance of getting in a few words before they shoot me._

Though he knew the world might be better off if they _did_ shoot him.

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Exterior

* * *

The battle hadn't gone well for the Earth Forces mobile armors. Mu had managed to disarm one mobile suit, but in the process he'd lost both Luke and Gayle. _This is insane,_ he thought. _It's crazy to think two Moebiuses and a Zero could take them out with no casualties; I should've known this would happen._

He frowned, seeing a signal flare shoot out from one of the ZAFT ships. He didn't recognize it, but he could tell what it meant from the reactions of the remaining GINNs. "They're retreating?" His frown deepened. "But there's still something..." A peculiar feeling filled his head, one which he recognized from previous battles. "What's _this?"_

Mu knew that feeling. It meant only one thing: _he_ was here.

Not far away, a lone CGUE flew across space from the _Nazca_-class destroyer _Vesalius_. "Can you feel me, I wonder?" Commander Rau Le Creuset murmured. "Do you sense my presence, in the same way that I sense yours? An unfortunate fate, wouldn't you say... Mu La Flaga." Oh yes, Le Creuset could feel Mu's presence... and was there someone else nearby? The other who could sense him, in a manner none of them had ever understood?

Yes... He too is here. Does he yet feel me, I wonder? Or is he wrapped up in whatever scheme has kept him busy these last four months?

Le Creuset smiled. Yes... This day would be interesting, indeed.

* * *

Heliopolis, Park

* * *

Murrue Ramius was just trying to decide what to do with the five students who had come into contact with the Strike -especially the one called Kira, who had piloted the machine well enough to defeat a GINN, after rewriting the operating system mid-battle- when the top-secret sixth prototype came walking over. 

Falcon had tracked the Strike here, after its pilot had regained his senses, and thought now was as good a time as any to get this over with; which was why he coming quite openly.

The gun in Murrue's hand faltered, as she realized she had bigger problems now. _Who could have boarded it? Well, I'll wager its not a friend, in any case. Which means we are in trouble._

Murrue had to make a decision, fast. She couldn't fly the Strike properly, but while Kira _could_, would he? And could she put him in that position?

"Are you gonna hold that gun on me, or are you gonna make me do something about this?" Kira demanded. "You'd better make up your mind!"

The point was suddenly moot, however. The Raptor came to a stop, and the hatch opened.

Down came someone in a flight suit of ZAFT cut, but with unique coloring; he was, strangely, wearing a short, curved sword at his waist, and what looked like a power cable dangled from his suit.

"You can lower your weapon," the pilot said quietly. "Besides, I've already been shot today, and I'd rather talk, instead."

Murrue blinked in surprise. She knew that voice, and that face, even with the eyepatch. "_Falcon?_ What are _you_ doing here?"

Pulling off his helmet, Falcon cocked his head. "Murrue Ramius," he said slowly. "My sister's best friend." His eye took in her Earth Forces work uniform. "Earth Forces Lieutenant's insignia... and Sophia introduced you as a classmate... ergo, Sophia is Earth Forces." His voice hardened imperceptibly. "She has a lot of explaining to do.

"_This is getting too strange,_ Murrue thought._ Well, at least we seem to have some breathing space._ "What do you mean, she has some explaining to do?" she asked. "Didn't she tell you she'd joined the Earth Forces? And what is going on here?"

"No, she didn't tell me," Falcon replied. "She told me she'd enrolled in a science academy." _I can't believe she joined the enemy..._

She struggled to regain her equilibrium. "Look, Falcon, before you got here, I was trying to figure out what to do next. You can obviously fly that machine, however you came across it; are you _willing_ to?"

He considered it for no more than a second. "Yes. I have no choice." Falcon glanced back at machine. "I notice it has space for a gunner," he said casually.

"Yes," Murrue replied, "but we've no one here qualified-"

"That's okay," he said calmly. "I don't need one."

_Well, that's one problem taken care of, even if I have no idea where he learned to fly a mobile suit._ Murrue turned back to the students. "Now, you all understand the situation. I cannot let you go, given what you've seen; and this is probably the safest place in the colony right now. Will you do as I ask?"

Kira exchanged glances with his friends, and finally sighed. "I guess we don't have any other option, do we?"

She sighed in relief. "Thank you. Kira, please get back in the Strike, and try contacting any Earth Forces people in the area. Sai, get back and retrieve the number five trailer. The rest of you, wait until he returns." She looked at Falcon. "You might want to stand ready in the Raptor, Falcon."

"In a moment," he replied. "First, I have a few questions; like what happened to the other four prototypes?"

Murrue shrugged. "I assume the Buster, Blitz, and Duel were taken by ZAFT forces; and I know the Aegis was." Her eyes narrowed. "But what I want to know is, how did _you_ know about them?"

"I hacked the database," he said simply. "As a favor... and because I was bored."

She grimaced. _Of course. Sophia always said he was a good hacker._ She felt a pang of worry. _The _Archangel_ was no doubt attacked as well; is she safe? And for that matter, does she even have any idea her brother is on Heliopolis?_

Falcon had been watching her intently, but his head suddenly came up, an arrested expression on his face. _That feeling... Is that you, Rau? I should have known..._

He turned back to the Raptor. "I need to get moving. Right now," he announced, already walking quickly back toward the mobile suit."

"Why?" Murrue called after him. "What's wrong?"

"Rau Le Creuset is here," he answered. "That means trouble."

She blinked. "How do you know he's here?" she called.

"It's my business to know." The Raptor's hatch closed behind him.

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Shaft

* * *

Mu La Flaga was starting to get just a little irritated, and more than a little nervous. His duel with Rau Le Creuset had taken them both into the colony's support shaft, and that dratted CGUE was making life miserable for him in the close confines. 

"Why in _this_ place?" he demanded of the universe in general, firing another shot from his linear cannon at Le Creuset's CGUE.

"Mu," Le Creuset murmured, vectoring in on the Zero, "I'd actually be pleased if you vanished right about... now!"

By now, Falcon, too, had gained access to the shaft's interior, and had spotted the confrontation. "Let's hope this works..." he murmured, examining the weapons controls. Then he opened his mouth, and uttered an inhuman, ascending wail.

Mu froze in his cockpit. _Oh, no. I know that sound._ He glanced at his displays, noting the machine coming towards him. _The sixth prototype. The one with the Death Blossom system. And the Grimaldi Falcon's got it._ His mind ran the variables, and came with one conclusion. _I'm a dead man._

Then, to his utter and complete surprise, the Raptor's beam rifle opened up on the CGUE, instead; followed by a shot from the back-mounted beam cannons. "What the-?"

Rau, even had he not felt the Falcon's presence, would also have recognized that hunting call. "Well, hello, Falcon," he called. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Not long enough, Rau," Falcon said softly. "Personally, I would rather never have seen you again." _That_ was putting it mildly.

The battle had become a frozen tableau, with words replacing actions. "I must admit, Falcon, that while your desertion didn't surprise me very much -after all, if anyone had a right to snap it was you- I never thought you'd cross _that_ line." Rau chuckled. "So, are you looking forward to seeing the Ninth Circle of Hell, Falcon? I believe that _is_ the place reserved for traitors and mutineers."

"I never betrayed the PLANTs, Rau," Falcon replied, though his stomach clenched. By firing that shot, he _had_ betrayed ZAFT, if not the PLANTs themselves. "In fact, everything I do is in their name."

"Then why fight me now, Falcon?" Rau was genuinely puzzled on that point. "If you wish to defend the PLANTs, why leave ZAFT? Only two other people were held in such high esteem."

"You know why," the one-eyed pilot said, a trace of emotion entering his voice; his breath was also becoming slightly labored, as he began to feel the effects of the bullet wound. "You know that there are those who would go too far. You know what project I was working on when I left."

"With the N-jammers in place, it hardly matters," Le Creuset pointed out. "It can never be used now."

"You know as well as I that they're working on a way around that." Falcon's gaze shifted to the Zero. "Lieutenant Mu La Flaga, I presume. Want some assistance?"

"If you're willing to provide it," Mu replied cautiously. "How do I know you won't shoot me?"

"You should know better than that, Lieutenant."

He sighed. Yes, he _did_ know better than that; the Grimaldi Falcon never broke his word, and in any case the fact that he had fired upon Rau Le Creuset meant the pilot could not turn back. _Which means this offer is genuine; and I _do_ need the help._

"All right, then, Commander DiFalco," Mu said. "Let's take him."

Once those words were spoken, Le Creuset knew he was in trouble. He was a formidable pilot himself -something he'd proven at Yggdrasil- but he was not certain he could best the Grimaldi Falcon even when they were in comparable mobile suits. Now, with Falcon piloting a G-weapon, there was a very good chance Rau would end up dead.

He decided to try a different tack, while dodging Raptor's fire. "You know who else is here, don't you, Falcon? You know who transferred into my team, the day before you left."

Falcon's face tightened just perceptibly. "Yes, I know." _Dearka Elsman... my best friend. Would that this never happened, that I was not forced to turn on ZAFT. But there is no longer any choice._ "I know, but I cannot allow anything to interfere with my mission. Least of all you, who sent us out to die."

Now outnumbered, Rau knew his only chance was to reach the colony's interior, where he would have more options. So, turning, he raced to one of the shaft walls, and waited, trusting to his reflexes to get him out alive.

"You think that will help you?" Falcon murmured. "Think again, old comrade."

Mu heaved a sigh of relief, seeing the Raptor engaging Le Creuset's machine. _They say there's nothing like the feeling when you realize you're still alive; guess they're right._ He smiled suddenly. _If I survive this, I should finally get to see the face behind the legend; should be interesting._

The Zero's linear gun fired -its wired gunbarrels were all gone now- at the same instant as Raptor's beam rifle and cannons; all of it aimed directly at the CGUE.

None of them connected, however. Le Creuset's reflexes were sharp enough to get him out of harm's way at the last instant, allowing the barrage to blow a mobile suit-sized hole in the wall, leading into the colony's interior. "If you want to catch me," he taunted, "you'll have to follow me in!"

Mu cursed, seeing his enemy escape; Falcon merely observed, devising his strategy based on the new variables. _Fine, then. Time to see what this mobile suit can really do._

"Follow me in," Falcon said, hitting several controls and arming the Death Blossom system.

"I hope you've got a plan," the Hawk called back. "But then, you always do, don't you? It's what kept you alive, through everything."

"Not everything," the one-eyed pilot whispered. "Not through Endymion."

In tandem, the former mortal enemies plunged into Heliopolis' interior.

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Interior

* * *

Murrue and the students hadn't been idle following Falcon's disappearance. Though she had no idea how the youth knew Le Creuset was near, she'd taken it as a warning, and worked double time to get the Strike ready for combat again. 

Presently, Kira poked his head out of the cockpit. "Now what?" he called; the trailer with the Striker pack had arrived, and now he needed to know what to do next.

"Mount the equipment onto the Strike!" she called back. "And hurry!"

Down next to the trailer, Sai, Tolle, Mir, and Kuzzey were trying to figure out what was going on. "What happened today?" Mir wondered aloud. "Why were the Earth Forces building those machines in neutral territory?"

"For that matter," Tolle said slowly, "just who _is_ Falcon? I knew he wasn't like the rest of us, but..."

"He's obviously a Coordinator," Kuzzey put in. "_And_ one with mobile suit experience. That means he must be ZAFT."

"Kuzzey," Sai said sharply; but then he sighed. "I guess you're probably right. He knew they were GINNs just by listening to them; he reacted badly to the idea of his sister being Earth Forces. It all makes sense, when you think of it that way."

All of a sudden, something high above exploded, interrupting their conversation. A cloud of smoke now obscured part of the shaft, and out of it flew a CGUE, looking as if it were being chased by demons.

That summation wasn't far off. It was immediately followed by the Raptor and a Moebius Zero, the Zero looking for a shot for its linear gun; four self-propelled pods of some sort, connected to the machine via wires, were spiraling out from the Raptor.

The G-unit suddenly changed color. Not as dramatically as the Strike, however; the Raptor simply changed shades, going from a basic light gray to uniform slate-gray. Now it went from merely menacing to something truly frightening.

A Gray Demon, personified.

Le Creuset could barely spare a glance for the Strike, under the circumstances; but he did spare it that glance. "So; that must be it. The machine that shot down Miguel. Now, if I can just take one of _these_ two annoyances out of the equation..."

He soon had his chance. Raptor was lining up for a shot from its remote laser units, the Zero on the CGUE's opposite side. _Perfect._

Falcon triggered a shot, but Le Creuset had planned well in the two seconds or so he had. He suddenly dropped his CGUE slightly, causing the beam to go past... right into the Zero's linear cannon.

"Nice shot, Commander," Mu said sarcastically, silently cursing. "Care to blow me _completely_ away next time? Or would you rather leave that to your friend there?"

"Don't blame me, Lieutenant," Falcon said evenly. "Rau is many things, but unskilled is not one of them; and I've never used a system like this before. And he's not my friend."

"Well, whatever. Are you going to shoot at him now?"

In the few moments his adversaries had been distracted, Le Creuset had closed in for the kill; but Kira had not been idle, either. The Launcher Striker pack had been attached, and his Phase-shift was up.

_I'll have to try another tack,_ he thought... and suddenly had something else to worry about.

Another loud explosion erupted in the colony wall, and the Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel_ burst into the colony's interior, majestic and powerful as her name.

* * *

Author's note: And so begins the tale of Ken "Falcon" DiFalco, the mysterious ex-ZAFT ace. Why did he desert, and what is it that he fears? 

All right, the first chapter of my new story is up. Some of you will no doubt know me as the author of Brothers in Arms; some of you, I know, are already waiting for this story, so here it is.

As noted in my other work, this has no connection to Brothers in Arms, though there will be some unavoidable similarities; and I will note here that this story will _not_ be continued into the events of Destiny. This will be a completely self-contained story, and for that matter, it will be put on hold for awhile when Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms begins. That, however, will be months yet, so there should be plenty posted by that time. (Note to Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, if you're reading this: this chapter was already complete, so no, it isn't distracting from the next chapter of the Second Story.)

As this _is_ the first chapter, there isn't much to say. Please read it and let me know what you think. -Solid Shark


	2. Chapter 2: Sibling Rivalry

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco and his team

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Interior

* * *

The _Archangel_ burst out into the open air of Heliopolis' interior, and in the Bridge's center seat Ensign Natarle Badgiruel's eyes were narrow. "Status report," she barked. 

"Morgenroete's been destroyed," Petty Officer Jackie Tonomura reported. "The Strike has been activated -No, it's in combat!"

"Oh, great," she growled to herself.

In the Combat Information Center, below and behind Natarle's seat, sat another woman, with hair as black as Natarle's and emerald eyes. "Strike isn't the only machine I see," Lieutenant (Senior Grade) Sophia DiFalco murmured. "Raptor is also up and running; and whoever's piloting it knows what he's doing."

Technically, Sophia was senior to Natarle, and thus ought to have been giving the orders. But she was an engineer, not a line officer, and didn't really have the expertise to deal with a battle. So instead she was in a support role.

She was, at that moment, a little irritated. _Who's flying my mobile suit?_ she thought irately. _Nobody _I_ know, I'm sure; whoever it is had better not hurt it!_ Sophia had designed the Raptor herself, and felt a certain proprietary air toward it, though she was not capable of flying it.

Oddly, she thought she recognized the Raptor's maneuvers. _That looks like the way Falcon always flew in the simulators... But it can't be _him_; he and Mom and Dad should still be in the PLANTs somewhere..._ It hurt her, knowing that her family was living among the enemy, but she at least knew they hadn't died with Junius Seven; they'd sent her a message the day after the disaster. _Now, if Falcon would just come to his senses and realize that the PLANTs do _not_ deserve his loyalty..._

"There's a CGUE out there, too, Ma'am," Tonomura called. "And a Moebius Zero."

"That'll be the Hawk of Endymion," Natarle mused. "Lieutenant DiFalco, do you have any idea who is flying the Raptor? That's even better than the fully-trained pilots."

"No clue, Ensign." Sophia tapped controls, altering displays. "But the beam cannons are tracking and the Death Blossom system is online, so it's either operating under a full crew, or the pilot is somebody we don't want to meet in a back alley."

"So somebody knows what they're doing..." Natarle frowned. "ZAFT commando-pilots?"

"Negative," the Lieutenant replied. "Not unless they're willing to sacrifice a CGUE, which really doesn't seem like their style." _But I still think there's something strange... I could_ swear_ that was the Iron Eagle in there..._

Iron Eagle was her nickname for her seemingly-emotionless younger brother, a play on his usual moniker, Falcon. He'd never seemed bothered by it; on the other hand, the guy who he always seemed to hang around with tended to be a little irritated. _What was his name... Elsman, I think, Dearka Elsman; son of Tad Elsman, a member of the PLANT Supreme Council; wonder whatever happened to _him

Natarle, meanwhile, had been thinking about the tactical situation, and now came to a decision. "Ignore the Raptor for now," she ordered. "Lock laser designator on the CGUE, and load Korinthos; and remember, you're not to hit the shaft or ground! That's an order!"

Shrugging, Petty Officer Dalida Lolaha Chandra entered the appropriate commands, and a salvo of three missiles shot out from the _Archangel_'s aft tubes.

* * *

Falcon rolled his eye, seeing the _Archangel_'s attack. "As if three missiles will be much good against a CGUE... with Rau Le Creuset in the cockpit." 

"Are _you_ gonna do anything about it?" Mu asked irritably. "Or are you just going to sit there?"

"Not just now," Falcon replied. "Rau's too good a pilot; if we tried anything now, _we'd_ hit the shaft. Personally, I don't want to be responsible for the destruction of the colony. Do you?"

Mu nodded reluctant agreement, observing the CGUE's antics as he did so. The nimble mobile suit shot the first missile, led the next into the shaft itself, and blasted the third with its Gatling. "He's as good as ever."

"But some say I'm better. _Now_ we engage." Falcon swept the Raptor around, angling toward the CGUE, which was now beginning a futile attack run on the _Archangel_. "Back to the darkness, Rau."

"Hey, Commander!" Mu broke in. "Look out!"

"What?" The one-eyed gaze dropped to the ground below, where the Strike was lifting a very large weapon into firing position, while Murrue shouted something up at it.

Falcon's sudden spin came just in time to take them out of the line of fire of an enormous, red-orange beam that shot past, catching the CGUE in the arm and blowing a gigantic hole in the side of the colony. "Idiot," he murmured. "Don't be hasty with things you don't understand."

Rau was actually a little shaken. "How can that be? A mobile suit with that much firepower?" Knowing he had lost this round, he spun around and beat a hasty retreat through the newly-blasted hole.

* * *

Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel_, Starboard Catapult

* * *

The Moebius Zero landed atop the massive ship's bow deck, while X105 Strike and X106 Raptor set down together on the deck of the _Archangel_'s starboard catapult, the former MS carrying Murrue, Sai, Tolle, Kuzzey, and Mir in its hands; the small group stepped off as the mobile suit came to a rest. 

"Lieutenant Ramius!" Natarle called, walking quickly toward them, trailed by most of the _Archangel_'s surviving complement. "I'm glad you're safe, Ma'am."

"Likewise, Ensign Badgiruel." Murrue smiled. "I'm pleased your protected the _Archangel_; you've saved all our lives."

"Wondered where you'd gotten to, Murrue," Sophia commented, smiling broadly. "Got a little worried, when Morgenroete went up."

Murrue's own smile widened. "Same here, Sophia. But, with the help of a couple of young people, I managed to survive." She glanced up at the two machines. "These G-weapons really are something."

"Yeah..." Sophia frowned. "So tell me, Murrue: just who exactly is flying my mobile suit?"

"Well, believe it or not, it's-"

"Well, _this_ is a surprise," another voice broke in. A pilot wearing pink, black, and white walked over to them, smiling. "My name is Mu La Flaga," he introduced himself, "a Lieutenant with the Seventh Orbital Fleet; at your service." He glanced between the three officers. "I'd like permission to come aboard; my ship engaged the enemy, and was downed. So who's in charge here?"

Natarle looked at the deck. "The senior officers of this ship have all perished in battle," she said softly. "Therefore, I believe Lieutenants Ramius and DiFalco are the senior survivors."

"Which puts you in charge, Murrue," Sophia said immediately. "I'm engineering, not line."

Murrue's eyes were wide. "The Captain's... But that can't be..."

Mu winced, rubbing his head. "Oh man, what a disaster." He shrugged. "In any case, please grant me permission, Lieutenant Ramius; I'm afraid I really don't have anywhere else to go at present."

"Oh, of course," she said quickly, recovering. "Permission granted, Lieutenant La Flaga." She brought herself to attention. "I'm Lieutenant Murrue Ramius; I'm in Sector 2, Fifth Special Division. I'm assigned to this ship."

"Ensign Natarle Badgiruel, same assignment," Natarle echoed.

"And I'm Lieutenant Sophia DiFalco," Sophia finished. "I'm an engineer; got assigned to this ship when I designed Raptor."

"Pleased to meet you. Now..." He looked up at the Raptor, then over to Sophia. "Lieutenant _DiFalco_, is it? You wouldn't happen to be related to _Ken_ DiFalco, would you?"

She blinked, startled. "Uh, yeah, he's my little brother; but how do _you_ know him, Lieutenant?"

"Who doesn't?" Mu replied cryptically.

Murrue cleared her throat. "Uh, that reminds me, Sophia. The current pilot of the Raptor is-"

Again she was interrupted, this time by the Raptor's hatch opening. Down came the one-eyed Falcon, who drew stares from the assembled crew.

Sophia was the first to find her voice. "_Falcon?_ What are _you_ doing here?"

The one-eyed pilot pulled off his helmet. "Didn't you hear, Sister?" he said icily. "We moved here last September, in case you missed the message."

"I was under communications blackout-" she began.

Sophia broke off so suddenly because of Mu's very surprising reaction. "Well, well," he said, smiling broadly and sticking out his hand to the younger pilot. "Commander DiFalco. Glad to finally meet you in the flesh, and off the battlefield, no less."

Falcon nodded, shaking the Hawk's hand. "Likewise, Lieutenant La Flaga." He gazed at his opposite number, taking in his appearance. "You know," he murmured, "I somehow expected you to be taller."

Mu burst out laughing; at 183 centimeters, he was hardly short. "And I expected _you_ to be a three-meter-tall, fire-breathing monster. Yet here you are, not a millimeter above two meters."

Sophia couldn't contain herself any longer. "'Commander DiFalco'? Falcon, did you join Earth Forces Intelligence or something without telling me?"

Mu laughed even louder. "Earth Forces? Don't be naive, Lieutenant. Your brother here is one of ZAFT's top aces; maybe _the_ top who's still a pilot, first and foremost. I'm surprised you never realized that your brother was the famed 'Grimaldi Falcon'."

Her eyes bugged in disbelief. "He's _what?"_

Under the disbelieving eyes of the _Archangel_'s crew, Falcon tucked his helmet under his arm and drew himself to attention, saluting in the odd ZAFT style. "DiFalco, Commander Kenneth," he said calmly. "Identification number: Six-one-eight-five-zero-two. Last assignment: Commander, DiFalco team; TAD ZAFT Special Forces, Special Engineering Unit."

Mu completed the introduction. "The youngest recipient of the Order of the Nebula," he pronounced. "And somebody you _really_ don't want to face in battle," he added, as Falcon drew his medal out of his flight suit and raised it into clear view. "A pleasure to meet you, Commander."

"Commander no longer," Falcon said softly; to Murrue's ear, there seemed to be a trace of sadness in the otherwise expressionless voice. "I made my choice four months ago, and by firing on Rau Le Creuset I irrevocably severed my ties to my comrades." He shrugged. "'Falcon' will do as well as any other name or title."

"Then call me Mu," his old adversary replied. "After all the times we've nearly killed each other, there's no reason to stand on ceremony."

"But, Lieutenant," Natarle protested. "The Grimaldi Falcon was responsible for the deaths of dozens of mobile armor pilots, including several of your own unit!"

Mu snorted. "Not just mobile armor pilots, Ensign; he shot up a number of capital ships, too. But I killed some of _his_ friends, too; including at least one of the Gray Demons themselves. You don't see _him_ holding it against me, do you?" He shook his head. "This is a war, Ensign, and if we seek revenge for every death, the cycle will be endless."

"I can't _believe_ you joined ZAFT!" Sophia burst out. "You're a citizen of the Atlantic Federation, and-"

WHAP.

She never saw the fist coming for her face. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the deck, and Falcon was idly rubbing his bruised knuckles. "I am a child of the colonies, Sister," he said coldly. "You always knew where my loyalties lay; not with those bigoted racists on Earth, but with the people of the PLANTs. My question to _you_ is: how could you join the enemy?"

Murrue stared at the young man in shock. She'd known him, years before, and she didn't remember him being at all like _this_. Certainly not cold and emotionless like this...

Mu cleared his throat, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. "So, Falcon... Why _did_ you leave the PLANTs? Nobody's heard from you since Nova..."

"It was two months following the battles at the resource satellite Nova that I deserted, Mu," Falcon said, now completely ignoring his astonished sister. "And, as with everything else I do, it was for the sake of my mission: the protection of the PLANTs."

"I don't understand," Sophia said, struggling to her feet and hoping her ears would stop ringing soon. "How can desertion be 'protecting the PLANTs'?"

When he replied, it was to Mu, not her; he didn't even look in her direction. "If you ever have to know the reason for my actions, this world is in very, very dire straits."

There was silence in the chamber for several moments following the grim pronouncement. Nobody knew whether to believe the pilot or not -after all, he _was_ the enemy, or at least he had been- but they _did_ know better than to press the issue.

Fortunately, there was shortly an opportunity to change the subject, as the Strike's cockpit opened at last, disgorging Kira Yamato... who was also clearly a mere teenager, and a civilian, no less.

"Would somebody explain this?" Petty Officer 1st Class Kojiro Murdoch demanded of the room in general. "He's just a kid; just learned how to shave, and _he's_ the one piloting it?"

"This is Kira Yamato," Murrue explained. "For some reason, he was in the factory district during the attack; I brought him aboard the G-weapon, and he subsequently drove off a ZAFT GINN."

"Fought off a GINN?" Natarle was thoroughly impressed. "This _kid_ actually did it?"

"It was Miguel Aiman," Falcon said softly. "In case the name means anything to you."

"The Magic Bullet of Dusk, eh? Not bad." Mu looked over as Kira moved to join his friends, and after a few moments of scrutiny walked over himself.

Made uneasy by the attention, Kira narrowed his eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"So..." Mu said slowly. "You're a Coordinator, aren't you?"

Only Tolle Koenig and Falcon seemed unsurprised by the question; the rest of those present waited with baited breath for the answer.

"Yes," Kira finally replied.

Instantly, guards brought their rifles up to firing position; but before they could do more than that, two things happened: Tolle stepped between them and Kira, and steel rasped against wood.

"Lower those guns, troops," Falcon said softly, dangerously. "I don't like guns, and if you attempt to use them on my friend there, you'll discover what cold steel does to the human body."

Murrue was quick to defuse the situation. "Lower your weapons, men," she ordered.

Natarle looked at her in puzzlement. "Lieutenant, what's going on?"

She shrugged. "It makes sense, when you think about it. Heliopolis is neutral, so it stands to reason some Coordinators would take refuge here to stay out of the war." Murrue looked at Kira. "Am I wrong?"

He shook his head. "No, you're right. Especially since I'm a _first_-generation Coordinator."

"Which means, of course, that your parents are Naturals." Mu shrugged apologetically. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to cause a fuss; I was just curious, especially in light of who the Raptor's pilot turned out to be."

"So what do we do now?" Natarle asked, a tad plaintively.

"First," he began, "we settle one important detail." He met Falcon's one-eyed gaze. "You said your sister joined the enemy. So I have to ask: just how far are you willing to go? Will you continue to fight, even against your own comrades?"

The younger pilot nodded, sheathing his sword. "When I fired upon Rau Le Creuset, Mu, I knew there was no turning back. ZAFT would not accept me back; and I have little choice but to fight, if I am to continue to defend the PLANTs." He glanced up at Raptor. "Yes, I will continue to fly, in defense of myself and this ship. _You_, Mu La Flaga, I trust; and Murrue Ramius." His gaze flickered briefly to his sister. "_You_, I'm not so sure about. Soon, we will have to talk... about a great many things."

"Yeah... I can see that..." Sophia muttered darkly. "Like whatever happened to your buddy, Elsman-"

"Irrelevant," Falcon cut in. He turned back to Murrue. "Lieutenant, will you be requiring me at this time? If not, I'm going to get some rest."

She exchanged glances with Mu, and shook her head. "Not just now, Falcon. I assume you know how to find your way around?" she asked, with a sardonic smile.

He nodded. "Yes." Turning, he retrieved his backpack, pulled out his computer, and walked into the ship.

"I suggest we go to the Bridge," Murrue said after he was gone. "We need to plan our next move. Mr. Chandra," she added, "please show the students to quarters, then return to your post on the Bridge."

"Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

ZAFT _Laurasia_-class escort ship _Gamow_

* * *

The Le Creuset team's remaining GINNs were preparing for launch, with special equipment, while the _Gamow_'s three top gun pilots looked on. 

"D equipment, I hear," Yzak Joule, pilot of the Duel, murmured. "I gather Commander Le Creuset is planning to storm a fortress or something."

"But what'll happen to Heliopolis?" the team's youngest pilot, Nicol Amalfi, said worriedly. "I mean, with weapons that powerful..."

"Can't be helped, can it?" Dearka Elsman answered; only half his mind was on the conversation.

"Serves them right," Yzak opined. "How can they call themselves neutral when they've been caught in the act of building new weapons for the Earth Forces?"

"But that's the least of our worries," Dearka whispered.

After returning to the _Vesalius_, Le Creuset had spoken to his pilots. _"I have bad news," he said. "One of the machines we ran into out there, the Raptor... its pilot is one of our own."_

_Yzak frowned. "Who, sir?"_

_The masked man looked directly at Dearka. "The Grimaldi Falcon," he said softly._

_Dearka paled. "Falcon? But, sir- Falcon's a patriot! He's a hero of Jachin Due, and the Grimaldi Front! And he's-"_

_"I know," Le Creuset said gently. "He's your friend. I understand, Dearka, and believe me, I'm just as confused as you. Remember, we served together at Jachin, and Yggdrasil before that."_

_"You're sure that it's Commander DiFalco, sir?" Athrun asked; he, too, had met the ace pilot. "It could be a trick..."_

_Le Creuset shook his head. "No, it's not. I myself spoke with him, during the battle, as did the Hawk of Endymion. More telling is his trademark battle cry, which no Earth Forces pilot could possibly duplicate. It's him, all right."_

_"So, what do we do, sir?" Nicol was a little shaken. "Do we...?"_

_"Shoot him down?" The commander shrugged. "I think the ultimate decision will be made by the Supreme Council itself, if we fail to destroy the legged ship. However, I think I know what their instructions will be, and until I know otherwise we'll operate on the assumption." He looked at Dearka again. "There is a possibility that Commander DiFalco is, on his own initiative, running a deep-cover operation. Even if he _has_ gone over to the Earth Forces, however, we may assume it is under false assumptions; one thing about him I have never doubted is his loyalty to the PLANTs. Therefore, he may think, for whatever peculiar reason, that what he is doing is in the best interests of the homeland; so these are my orders: you will make every effort to capture him. I repeat, _capture_; only if it becomes absolutely necessary will you shoot him down. I daresay we owe him, of all people, the benefit of the doubt."_

Yzak noticed his comrade's continued silence. "Still thinking about your buddy, huh?" He was cold, maybe even a little arrogant, but not heartless; and besides, he was just as shocked.

"I just don't understand, Yzak," Dearka said quietly. "I've known him over ten years; we joined the academy together back in 68. I thought I knew him... but I guess not. Not if he can betray us like that."

"He may have just snapped," Nicol suggested. "If anyone has a right to, it's him; they say there hasn't been a major space battle in this war that he hasn't fought in."

The blond-haired pilot shook his head violently. "No way. Not Falcon. If he was going to snap, he'd have done it a year ago, after Junius Seven."

"Well, we'll find out, one way or another," Yzak predicted. "If he _has_ gone over to the Earth Forces, he'll be waiting for our attack."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Crew Quarters

* * *

"It's amazing how he can sleep at a time like this," Kuzzey commented, looking up at an upper bunk; Kira occupied it, dead to the world. 

Mir shrugged. "It's been a rough day, for all of us. It must have been really tough on him, especially; he had to pilot that mobile suit in battle."

"Then there's Falcon," Sai put in. "I never suspected he was a ZAFT pilot. I mean, he fit in pretty well, even if he didn't say much."

"He's had some training in engineering, looks like," Tolle opined. "He must have had to rewrite that machine's OS, just like Kira; and I remember how he aced all those tests."

"I've suspected for awhile now that _Kira_ was a Coordinator," Kuzzey said slowly. "Coordinators... byproducts of genetic engineering, with all these superhuman abilities... but remember how Kira was telling us how he rewrote that mobile suit's OS? Well, when he did have _time_ to do that? He was being shot at, and I certainly can't seem him having any prior knowledge of that thing, so..."

"Does it matter _how_ he did it?" Tolle demanded. "He just _did_, and saved us, too."

"Yeah, but... All those ZAFT guys are like that, too," Kuzzey pointed out, worried. "They're all Coordinators, and we've seen what they can do. Does the _Archangel_ stand a chance against them?"

"We've got Kira on our side," Mir said. "And Falcon. Remember, he used be _with_ ZAFT; if anybody knows how to fight them, it's Falcon."

"But can we trust him?" Sai frowned. "From what Lieutenant La Flaga said, he used to be some kind of big shot ace in ZAFT, with a lot of kills under his belt, and even the Order of the Nebula. Can he really have betrayed the PLANTs?"

"No way," she said firmly. "That's _why_ I trust him, Sai. You heard him; he didn't betray the PLANTs at all. He just decided ZAFT was going too far, and chose to fight for his homeland in a different way." She snickered suddenly. "But you know, I don't want to be around when Falcon and that sister of his have their 'talk'; looks like he was just as surprised as we were to find her here."

"But what's going to happen to _us_?" Kuzzey said plaintively.

None of them had an answer to that.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Officer's Quarters

* * *

Stepping into the solo quarters -on his way there, he'd been informed he'd been assigned officer's quarters; Mu had said something to the effect that commanders didn't share barracks space with the troops- Falcon glanced about with a sigh. 

_I preferred base accommodations,_ he thought, remembering the Grimaldi Front._ But the Eyrie is long gone, and some good people with it._

The Eyrie was the hidden canyon base from which the Gray Demons had operated, after they began to gain notoriety. Seeing how effective they had become, and how their fame made them prime targets, ZAFT higher-ups had decided the unit needed a clandestine base, and so the Eyrie had been born, situated in a lunar canyon just on the ZAFT side of the Grimaldi Front. Manned exclusively by the thirteen Gray Demons and their support staff, it meant home to Falcon in a way no other place had in years.

But then came the disaster at Endymion, which brought ZAFT's victorious march across the Moon to a dead stop. Following the battle, Falcon had personally set the Eyrie's self-destruct system, before returning to the PLANTs for proper medical treatment.

Well, no help for it. _Archangel_ was where he could expect to be for awhile, and the accommodations weren't _that_ bad. So, he unlimbered his backpack, tossed it on the bunk, and stripped off his flight suit. He replaced it with a blue Earth Forces volunteer uniform from the cabin's closet. It was somewhat distasteful, for one of ZAFT's top aces, but it wouldn't exactly do to go about in ZAFT uniform, would it?

Falcon, after fastening the uniform tunic, strode back to the bunk and opened the backpack, whose contents he began removing.

First came a framed citation, which went with his Order of the Nebula; this he set on the cabin's desk, along with a leather-bound book. Its title was _The Falcon's Lessons of War_, a book which one such as Mu La Flaga would have recognized. It was the collected military wisdom -and wisecracks- of the Grimaldi Falcon.

Since joining ZAFT in C.E. 68, Falcon had become known for, in various situations, making a profound -or ironic- statement, and quoting a lesson number. Eventually, one of his teammates got the idea of writing down and gathering together the various "lessons", and the result was a book which had become an unofficial textbook for ZAFT pilots and an object of much interest among Earth Alliance pilots, after a copy was captured.

Some quotes were a little humorous, like Lesson Thirty-One: _If it's stupid and it works, it ain't stupid._ Others were more serious, like Lesson Twenty-One: _If you cannot win by numbers, remember: even the smallest of creatures can nibble the largest to death._

Right now, it was more Lesson Twenty-Five that was on his mind: _Once you have set yourself a task, do not abandon it. Even when continuing requires an action that makes your comrades call you traitor, persevere; for sometimes, the cost of failure can have consequences far beyond your worst nightmares._

That was the truth, Falcon knew, reaching once again into the pack. When he first said those words, he'd been generalizing; now he was deadly serious. _But for now, it cannot come to pass._

Burying it deep in his mind, he set it aside, as he pulled out a carefully-folded red uniform. Some commanders switched to white when they reached that exalted rank, but others preferred to stay with their roots, and Falcon was one of them.

Still, he did not feel worthy to wear the uniform now; not while he fought for the Earth Forces. So instead he set it aside, to be stored in case -no, until- he might wear it again. _Not _for_ the Earth Forces,_ Falcon corrected himself. _With, until the time comes that it is no longer necessary._

Then he came to one other item, and he withdrew the photograph very carefully. It showed him, as well as a blond-haired pilot and several others. It had been taken three years previously, and he had treasured it ever since.

_How many of them still live?_ Falcon mused._ Alicia Sharpe... KIA, Endymion Crater... Matt Russo... KIA, Endymion Crater... Victor... KIA, Eyrie... rot, you bloody bastard... _He came to another face, with Prussian blue eyes and brown hair._ Ken "Falcon" DiFalco... KIA, Endymion Crater..._

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

The ship's officers were, at that moment, examining an identical photograph, or in this case a computer copy. "It's the only picture Intelligence ever got of him," Mu was saying. "They managed to snag a copy of his graduation photo somehow, and this is it." He glanced up at Sophia. "You're his sister, Lieutenant; what can this picture tell us?" 

She examined it minutely. "Well, he doesn't have the eyepatch yet... And before you ask, no, I don't know how he lost an eye. I had no idea myself until he turned up today."

"Probably has something to do with whatever gave him that scar," Natarle opined.

Sophia shook her head. "Not necessarily, Ensign Badgiruel. One thing you have to understand about the Iron Eagle: he's very stubborn, and very proud. He may well have gotten that scar before I left home, and just covered it up till now. He does things like that. But I _can_ tell you he still had both eyes when I knew him. I don't know how he lost one."

Mu frowned, staring at the image. "There were rumors he was badly wounded at Endymion," he said slowly. "And it's true, he _was_ out of action for about twelve days. We were never able to figure out, though, if it was due to injury or just some bureaucratic thing."

They were discussing Falcon before planning their next move, because, as Sophia put it, they needed to know their friend before they could figure out how to move against their enemy.

Murrue frowned. "Who's the blond fellow, standing next to him? Looks like a close friend..."

Sophia peered at him. "That's Dearka Elsman," she announced after a moment. "Falcon's best friend, ever since we moved to Februarius City; his father Tad is on the PLANT Supreme Council, last I heard. I don't know the guy real well, but we didn't hit it off. Like Falcon, he's a PLANT loyalist to the core." _And I still can't _believe_ Falcon could have been so far gone as to join ZAFT!_ "I don't recognize the guy on Falcon's left, though." She indicated a black-haired pilot, who looked about a year younger than Falcon.

Mu whistled. "I do. That's Tempest."

Natarle looked at him, eyebrow lifted. "'Tempest'?"

"Victor Tempest," he explained. "Used to be with the Gray Demons, before Endymion. Indications at the time were that he and Falcon had a falling out, and he got himself killed shortly after."

"One of the battles on the Front?" Sophia tilted her head, puzzled. "But it wouldn't be like Falcon to get rid of somebody by sending him out to die."

"I didn't say he was killed in _action,"_ Mu said grimly. "Word is, he was just as much of a sword nut as his boss, and he got sufficiently ticked to challenge Falcon to a duel." He grimaced. "Tempest lost."

Murrue winced. "That... doesn't sound like a fun way to go."

"I imagine it wasn't much better for Falcon," he pointed out. "They say those two were academy buddies, but something went wrong; wrong enough to die for. Can't have been easy on the guy, though."

Sophia snorted derisively. "Don't be so sure, Lieutenant. Falcon's about as warm and fuzzy as a porcupine, with all the warm feelings of a dead fish."

Mu frowned at her. "Is that any way to talk about your own brother?"

"He wouldn't care; it's the truth, Lieutenant," she said simply. "He gets angry -I've _seen_ it- but grief? Give me a break."

The incipient argument was interrupted by Tonomura. "Uh, Ma'am..." he said slowly, looking nervous.

Murrue glanced over at the communications station, where he sat. "What is it, Petty Officer?"

He swallowed. "I just queried the shelters, Ma'am. They say..." He hesitated, not wanting to say what he had to say. "They say no one answering to the name DiFalco entered any of them."

Sophia went white. "Query Heliopolis business records," she ordered hoarsely. "Find out where my parents worked, and then show me what's there."

"Yes, Ma'am." Tonomura, unnerved but not really surprised by the Lieutenant's reaction, hurriedly went to work, accessing what was left of Heliopolis' data network.

The results were... not promising.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Falcon's Quarters

* * *

Falcon set aside the picture at last, sighing. _How many of those people are dead, I wonder? Victor Tempest... You simply could not accept my decision, could you? That's something you never understood, old friend: the PLANTs come before all, including friendship... especially when your antics nearly get your teammates killed._

He sighed again. Victor Tempest had always been a little... peculiar, especially when it came to blades. Falcon had personally taught the younger pilot the art of the sword, but even then something didn't seem right, so he instinctively held back, ensuring that his friend's skill didn't match his own.

_As well that I did,_ he thought,_ and remembered..._

_Falcon was standing in his office at the Eyrie, back to the door, going over battle plans for the Gray Demons' next sortie. "Be conservative," he murmured. "Don't be too bold when you're shorthanded."_

_The hatch suddenly slid open. "Are these orders for real?" the black-haired young man, wearing a gray flight suit with a katana at his side, demanded._ "Please_ tell me you're kidding!"_

_"No, Victor, I'm not," Falcon replied, turning. "Those orders are correct. You're leaving with the next supply shuttle."_

_"You can't _do_ this to me!" Victor Tempest shouted. "We went through the Academy together, remember? We fought together at Yggdrasil and Jachin Due. I was one of your first picks when you formed this team! I-"_

_"Enough, Victor," the Commander said firmly. "You know as well as I do what happened out there yesterday. Your foolhardy, glory hound antics very nearly got me killed, and almost took the rest of the team down with us when they had to charge in to rescue us. _That_, Tempest, means you're off the team. You do _not_ needlessly endanger your comrades; you did, and that makes you a liability in combat. That's all that matters."_

_"But we're_ friends,_ Falcon!" Tempest said desperately._

_"If I chose my men based on friendship, Tempest, Dearka Elsman would be in your slot," Falcon said coldly. "He, unlike you, knows how to follow orders, and he knows not to try to play the patronage game with me. And, also unlike you, he knows me from well before the Academy. No, Tempest, the fact that we're friends is irrelevant. What you seem to have forgotten is that our primary objective is the defense of the PLANTs, _not_ the mindless killing of Naturals."_

_"They're the enemy," Tempest said stubbornly._

_"But not forever," his commander countered. "The goal is to defeat the enemy _without_ wiping him out, Tempest; the idea is to win freedom and independence for the homeland, not conquer Earth and subjugate the Naturals."_

"That's not what Representative Zala says," Victor challenged.

"I don't care a wit what Patrick Zala thinks," Falcon said contemptuously. "The man may be the leader of ZAFT, but my ultimate allegiance is to the PLANTs themselves, not a pompous, genocidal loon like him." He turned away again. "You're off the team, Tempest. That's final."

"I don't think so, Boss," Tempest said menacingly. "I think you've lost the right to lead this team. I think someone with a more proper attitude should be in charge. I think..." Steel rasped against wood. "I think that someone should be me."

Falcon never saw the blade coming for his back, but his reflexes sensed it, and his own blade came out, even as he turned...

The one-eyed pilot brought himself back to the present, as a knock came at the hatch. "Falcon? You in there?"

He didn't turn. "Come in, Mu."

Mu La Flaga stepped in, feeling distinctly nervous... and more than a little depressed, for the sake of two of his new shipmates. "Listen, Falcon, I've got some bad news for you." He hesitated. "Your parents apparently never made it to the shelters," he said finally, voice leaden. "And according to our instruments, their workplace was destroyed, probably during the initial attack."

Whatever reaction he'd been expecting, he didn't get it. "I see," Falcon whispered, turning to face the Hawk. The only trace of emotion on his face or in his body language was a tightening around his eye and a subtle tension about his body. "So they're dead, then."

"Probably," Mu replied, startled into the less-than-tactful remark. "You... don't seem very broken up about it. Is there... something we should know?"

A twitch at the corner of the pilot's mouth. "Ask my sister, Mu; she'll tell you I'm as warm and fuzzy as a porcupine, with all the warm feelings of a dead fish."

"That's not what I remember from the Grimaldi Front," the Hawk countered.

"People change, Mu," Falcon said softly. "You'll learn that. Besides..." he added. "They weren't _my_ parents at all... and Sophia's not my sister."

Silence for a beat. _What?_ Mu thought. _"What?"_ he blurted. "The Lieutenant didn't say anything about that-"

"She wouldn't have." The Grimaldi Falcon snorted, still expressionless. "After all, she never told _me_; why would she tell anyone else? But I knew. Somehow, I've always known... and therefore there was always that barrier between my parents and me."

Mu whistled. "No _wonder_ you never got along with your sister, even before you found yourselves on opposite sides." He tilted his head. "Do you know who your real family is?"

Falcon shook his head. "No idea. I always intended to find out, but I never had the time to search. I do know Rau was looking into it, for some reason, but I gather he never found any clues, either." He closed his eye, thinking. "By the way, Mu," he said slowly, "there's something I've wondered about for a long time."

Mu raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Rau always seemed to know when you were in the area." The Prussian blue eye opened. "Can you sense Rau Le Creuset?"

He started violently. "How did you-?"

"Because I can, too." Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "I don't know how, and I don't know why -and I never asked Rau; I've never liked him, and I never trusted him as far as I could throw him. But somehow I can feel his presence, which is how I knew to come to the colony shaft when I did; though I had no idea _you_ were there."

"So _that's_ how you turned up like that..." Mu shook his head. "Yeah, I can feel him; it's saved my life a couple times. But I don't know how it works, either." He raised an eyebrow. "So, do you have any idea why he of all people was looking that deep into your background?"

"No, unfortunately." Falcon frowned, staring unseeing at his graduation photo. "I wish he'd found something, though; if he had, I very probably would have been able to hack it out of his files... and maybe then I'd know who I really am." He shrugged it off. "But it doesn't really matter now."

"Yeah, I guess..." Mu glanced at the picture. "So, you still keep it around, huh?" He focused on the black-haired pilot. "What _did_ happen to Victor Tempest, anyway?"

The one-eyed pilot was silent for a long moment. "He's dead," he said finally. "Because I took his life." He looked up. "It wasn't 'eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth', in case you're wondering. He nearly got the team killed, but my response -since we _did_ survive- was to have him transferred, friend or no. Unfortunately, Victor was always... a little unstable. He couldn't handle being 'exiled' from the prestigious Gray Demons, led by his friend, so he... tried to do something about it." Falcon touched the twined handle at his side. "It was the first time I used a blade on a human, and I'll never forget it."

"I bet," the Hawk murmured.

The window into Ken DiFalco's soul suddenly closed. "It's no use dwelling on the past," he said curtly. "We need to plan how to get out of this alive. Want some help?"

* * *

_Archangel,_ Lieutenant (Senior Grade) Sophia DiFalco's Quarters

* * *

Sophia, like Mu, had left the Bridge; but her for different reasons. She was absolutely stunned by the probable deaths of her parents; so stunned, in fact, that combined with the lack of any physical evidence she couldn't really believe it yet. 

Instead, the event combined with several others to bring her almost to the point of nervous collapse. _I don't believe it,_ she thought. _My parents are gone, and now Falcon has turned up, acting just the way I always feared. The conditioning almost certainly worked... which means I have to be on my guard. Falcon might not be entirely trustworthy anymore._ She snorted to herself. _Might_ not? After what she'd just learned... _He's an ace ZAFT pilot. Of _course_ I need to watch my step. Especially with Dr. Metzinger's work still so little understood..._ _But I wonder; does Falcon know that I'm not really his sister? And if so, does he know he _does_ have a blood relative aboard? No... If he knew, he'd have already confronted me. I'm safe, for now._

Yet her brother was not Sophia's only worry. Though she had managed to hide her surprise, she was also quite familiar with the name Kira Yamato. In fact, she knew more about the young Coordinator than he knew about himself. Far more.

_Curse you, Hibiki,_ Sophia thought._ Did you have any thought as to the possible consequences of your actions? Of course not; you scientists are all the same, always trying to see if it _can_ be done without stopping to think if it _should_ be done. It's just a very good thing Kira got out of your clutches when he was so young; I shudder to think of what he might have become, knowing what he is and with your insane influence over him. I just wonder what happened to the poor kid's sister..._

That was one thing Sophia's data searches had never managed to turn up. From her own visit to the long-abandoned Mendel colony, she knew the result of the experiment was a set of twins, but she was never able to determine where the girl had gone; even the boy's identity had been uncertain until she actually laid eyes on him, and heard of his incredible piloting skill.

Now she was very, very nervous. It was clear to her that before long, Falcon and Kira would become close comrades, and maybe even friends; they were much alike, and Falcon would doubtless easily assume the role of mentor to the younger Coordinator, in terms of flying.

If -when- that happened, it would be good for the ship itself, Sophia knew. The Hawk of Endymion, the Grimaldi Falcon, and the theoretical student could be a formidable team. On the downside, though, if she ever accidentally let something slip about Hibiki's project to Falcon, he'd be sure to let Kira know immediately.

Which would make just about _everybody_ mad at her for concealing it.

_But I have no_ choice! she protested to herself._ Not now, certainly; if Kira found out now what he is, it could cripple him, and even with Falcon and Lieutenant La Flaga along, we can't afford that._

Even that paled in the face of what would happen if certain facts about _Falcon_ got out, though. Even if she was wrong about how far along the process had been, the revelation would be... frightening. The "Iron Eagle" did not take well to having _anything_ done to or about him "for his own good".

If he ever found out... Oh, I wish I could warn Murrue. Der Schreckick Eins is with us... and if his reputation isn't exaggerated, he lives up to the codename...

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Falcon stepped onto the _Archangel_'s Bridge with a confident stride, as cool and collected as ever. "Is there any sign of the Le Creuset team?" he asked without preamble. 

Murrue blinked at his slightly commanding tone; but then she was still getting used to the idea of him being a ZAFT ace. "Not yet," she answered. "They seem to be biding their time, for now."

"It won't last," Mu and Falcon stated simultaneously. They looked at each other, and the Hawk waved a hand, bowing to the one-eyed pilot's superior knowledge of Le Creuset.

"Rau's objective was quite clearly the capture of the G-weapons and the destruction of this ship," Falcon began. "He has four of the machines now, but with the Strike and the Raptor out of his reach, and the _Archangel_ still at large, he won't just give up and leave. Especially," he added grimly, "when you add me to the equation. As far as ZAFT is concerned, I'm a traitor, and they'll stop at nothing to execute me for it."

"I see." Natarle looked up from her displays. "Do you know what tactics they'll use?" She trusted Falcon's information for one reason: Murrue Ramius and Mu La Flaga trusted him, and the Hawk of Endymion in particular would not lightly trust such a man.

"Uncertain," the pilot with the cyclops-gaze replied. "If they just use their remaining GINNs... I would say they'll use D package weaponry."

Mu stared at him. "You're kidding. That's the sort they use on hardened fortresses, not ships in neutral colonies."

"No, Mu, I'm not kidding." Falcon met his gaze levelly. "Rau Le Creuset considers this ship a grave threat. He will stop at nothing to destroy it. However, if he uses GINNs, Kira and I should be able to handle it without too much trouble. Kira's piloting skills are still in their infancy, but I have no doubt he will become a very dangerous adversary in the future."

"And you, of course," Murrue commented, "are the one they used to call the 'Grimaldi Falcon'." She frowned. "You said _if_ he uses GINNs. As opposed to what?"

"Come now, Murrue," he said softly. "Have you already forgotten that _Vesalius _and _Gamow_ now have four G-weapons?"

She winced. "You think they'll use them on us already?"

"The possibility exists."

"Can you defeat them if they _are_ deployed?" Natarle asked.

"Unlikely." The one-eyed pilot stroked his chin. "If it is just one, I can probably hold it off, at least long enough for the _Archangel_ to escape. Depending on the skill of the pilot, I _might_ actually defeat him. Against two G-machines... with Kira's help, I might fend them off for a time. Against all four? Even I cannot perform miracles, Ensign. The only possible chance I would have is the fact that I know most of the Le Creuset team's pilots... and they know me. They may be reluctant to fire on me."

"Even after you fired on Le Creuset?" Sophia said skeptically, entering the Bridge. "Seems to me that would make their reluctance evaporate pretty quick."

Mu cocked an eyebrow at Falcon. "You want to handle that, or shall I?" He received a nod in reply, and turned to Sophia. "Lieutenant, the Grimaldi Falcon's distaste for Rau Le Creuset is well-known; the way I heard it, your brother nearly killed him after Endymion, though I don't know why."

"Because he sent my team out to die," Falcon whispered, voice like a sharpened blade. "He was in overall command of the battle; _he_ sent my men and me to our deaths..."

Murrue looked at him. "What was that?"

The one-eyed pilot quickly shook his head. "Nothing, Murrue. Anyway, before we can begin planning, we need to settle one thing: is Kira Yamato going to pilot the Strike again?"

"I'm not sure it would be a good idea," Natarle said immediately. "He's a civilian, a Coordinator, and a kid; I'm not sure we can justify putting him in charge of such sensitive military hardware."

Falcon lifted an eyebrow. "In case it slipped your notice, Ensign, _I_ am a Coordinator, and technically a minor... by Natural standards. By _our_ standards, Kira is nearly fully mature, at least in terms of mentality. And I... well, war ages one prematurely. As do other things." He unconsciously rubbed his chest, over his heart. "Another point: can you allow him to leave?"

"Not after what those students have seen," the Ensign replied without hesitation.

"I agree with the Ensign," Murrue said slowly, "but not for those reasons." She nodded at the colony interior, visible through the front viewport. "They've locked the shelters down tight; the only way out of this colony is now the _Archangel_. That effectively settles that question, doesn't it?"

"True." Falcon looked back at Natarle. "Final question, Ensign: do you have anyone _else_ who can fly a G-weapon?"

She reluctantly shook her head. "No, we don't. The only trained mobile suit pilot aboard is you, Commander; the only other pilots are Lieutenant La Flaga and Chief Petty Officer Neumann, neither of whom have any mobile suit experience." She glanced at Mu. "At least, I assume you don't."

Mu shook his head. "Not even in the simulators, sorry."

Sophia raised her hand. "I helped design the Strike, I might be able-"

"No," Falcon cut her off. "You are an engineer, Sophia, not a pilot; you don't have the training for that. Besides which, I notice you have yet to develop a Natural-adapted operating system. Or so, at least, I judge from the state of Raptor's computers. I've seen better programming from a six-year-old Coordinator."

She wanted to snap at him, but decided it wasn't wise, and contented herself with muttering, "I was _working_ on it."

"Then I suppose it's settled," Murrue said at last. "Kira will have to pilot the Strike again, if we're to make it out of this alive."

Falcon frowned suddenly. "Yes... but has anyone asked _him_ about it?"

The resulting silence was quite eloquent.

The young pilot didn't even sigh. "That's what I thought. Fine. Murrue, I suggest you talk to him about it... carefully. I'll join you after I change into my flight suit."

"Agreed."

The two left the Bridge, and Natarle turned to the remaining pair of lieutenants. "Can we really trust this guy? I mean, he _is_ a former ZAFT pilot..."

Mu shrugged. "Personally, I'd say so; the Grimaldi Falcon is known as a man of his word. On the other hand, this is the first time I've actually _met_ him. Lieutenant?"

Sophia sighed. "I don't know, Lieutenant La Flaga, I really don't. A few years ago, I'd have said yes, we can trust him. But now? I had no idea he was a ZAFT pilot, let alone one that good."

"ZAFT's 'Ace of Aces'," the Hawk murmured. "That's another thing they used to call him. While there's always been some debate as to whether their best pilot was Ken DiFalco, Rau Le Creuset, or Andrew Waltfeld, there was never any doubt that the Grimaldi Falcon had the highest kill score of any of them."

"Any idea where he won his Order of the Nebula?" Natarle asked. "They don't award _that_ for nothing."

"True." Mu scratched his head. "If I remember right, it was the Battle of Jachin Due; apparently, he kept destroying mobile armors just as they launched, and drove the crew of the mobile armor carrier _Truman_ nuts."

Sophia jerked, jaw dropping nearly to the floor, face pale. "Did you say _Truman?"_

"Yeah, why?"

"Because," she said with difficulty (difficulty imposed by sheer shock), _"I_ was on the _Truman_ at Jachin. I remember that gray GINN kept hovering right outside, destroying everything that got near him... it was like he was taunting us..."

"He probably was," Mu remarked. "And yeah, that gray GINN would have been him; I don't think he upgraded to a CGUE until the Grimaldi Front." He chuckled. "Yeah, he probably _was_ taunting you, Lieutenant; the Grimaldi Falcon always did like to show off."

"I'm gonna kill him..." Sophia muttered. Then she winced, remembering the sword her brother carried at all times. She'd never seen him use it for real, but in years past she'd watched him practice, both with a sword and unarmed. His sheer speed had frightened her, the one time she got too close.

She figured he'd only gotten better since.

"Back to the original point," Natarle said pointedly, "_can_ we trust him?"

Mu shrugged. "I don't see that we have a choice. Do you?" _But yeah, I think we can. Besides, it'll be fun to fly _with_ the Grimaldi Falcon, instead of against him... for once._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Crew Quarters Corridor

* * *

"What do you want?" Kira asked of Murrue, eyes wary. Now that the immediate life-or-death situation had passed, he wasn't quite as willing to cooperate. 

She sighed inwardly. _I was afraid of this. He has a pretty good idea of what I'm going to say... and he's already made up his mind. Still, I have to try._

"Look, Kira," Murrue began. "I can't let anyone of you off the ship now; not only have you been exposed to military secrets, but now there's also nowhere to let you go _to."_

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Kuzzey demanded.

The lieutenant didn't have to answer; Sai did it for her. "They must have locked down the shelters," he said glumly. "Makes sense, after that last attack."

"So what do you want Kira for?" Tolle asked.

Murrue closed her eyes for a moment. "Kira, I hate to ask this of you, but I'm afraid you're the only person we have who can pilot the Strike-"

"You've got Lieutenant La Flaga," Kira interrupted. "And Falcon; and _he's_ even a mobile suit pilot."

"It's not that simple. Lieutenant La Flaga says he can't use the Strike; we still haven't managed to come up with an OS that allows Naturals to fly mobile suit pilots. And as for Falcon... he's already piloting the other machine."

"So why not let _him_ handle things?" Mir questioned. "I mean, I don't want to drop everything on him, but like you said, he's already flying one of those new machines, and he's also a ZAFT ace, right? So don't you think he can take care of it himself?"

"No."

The single syllable came from Falcon himself, who came down the corridor toward them. He wore his gray flight suit, cable dangling, his helmet under his arm.

"Why not?" Kira turned his glare on the one-eyed pilot. "Why do _I_ have to fight, huh? Tell me, Falcon!"

Falcon's good eye narrowed. "Because I'm not a superman, Kira," he answered calmly. "I am, as Miriallia said, an ace; but I am _not_ infallible. Ask Mu about the Battle of Endymion Crater sometime. I lost people there even before the Cyclops was activated, and we were facing mobile armors. Today, we're dealing with GINNs... and possibly G-weapons."

"We don't want anything to do with your war-!" Kira began.

The older teen cut him off. "Too bad," he said coldly. "This isn't just 'our' war anymore, kid; ZAFT just made it yours, too. You want to leave once we reach safer territory, fine. But as of right now, you're in a warzone, and if you don't want to die, you fight." He lowered his voice. "If you don't want your _friends_ to die, you fight. Understand something, kid: I don't want to fight either. But I don't have a choice, and if you want to get out of this alive, you may not, either."

The younger Coordinator seethed inwardly. _How can you talk to me like that when it was your own people who did this?_ He shook his head, realizing how childish that sounded. _It's not like he had anything to do with it; and... how is _he_ feeling, fighting against his own comrades? Can I really shrink from protecting _my_ friends, when Falcon's conscience is making him fight _his_ friends?_

Knowing that everyone present, especially his good friends Mir and Tolle, were watching him closely, waiting for his decision, Kira sighed. "All right," he said finally. "I'll do it. But only until we've escaped," he added quickly.

Murrue silently sighed in relief. "Thank you, Kira. I appreciate it."

Falcon favored him with what seemed to be an approving gaze; if one looked closely enough, one might even see the ghost of a smile on his face. "Good, Kira. And sorry for getting preachy." Interestingly, he delivered the apology without a trace of emotion, but Kira understood that he really did mean it. "Later, when we have the time," the ace went on, "I'll teach you some advanced flying; some tricks I've learned over the years."

Kira nodded. He didn't like it, in principle (since it meant he'd be flying in combat), but under the circumstances he appreciated anything that would help keep him alive. "Thanks."

A moment later, a nearby intercom panel beeped. _"Bridge to Lieutenant Ramius!"_ Mu called over it.

Murrue quickly crossed to the panel. "What is it, Lieutenant La Flaga?"

_"Incoming mobile suits, we think,"_ he replied grimly._ "Le Creuset isn't waiting for us to come out and play; he's sending his people in first. Get up and take command!"_

She jerked. "What are you talking about?"

_"I have seniority,"_ Mu explained impatiently,_ "but I don't know anything about this ship; and, as she's pointed out at least a dozen times now, Lieutenant DiFalco doesn't know anything about fighting a space battle."_

Murrue managed a brief chuckle, both at the Hawk's exasperated tone and the reference to Sophia's repetitious statements. _She always insists she's an engineer, not a soldier... oh, well._

Her moment of levity faded, and she nodded soberly to herself. "Very well, Lieutenant. I'm on my way." She glanced at the two Coordinators. "And the Strike and Raptor will both be heading out shortly."

_"Good,"_ Mu said, relieved._ "My Zero isn't ready, but with the kid in the Strike and the Grimaldi Falcon in the Raptor, we've got a good chance of getting out in one piece. I'll be waiting for you one the Bridge."_

He signed off, and Murrue turned to the five students and ace pilot. "All right, you've heard it for yourselves. We're about to be under attack again. Kira, Falcon, please report to the hanger and board your machines. The rest of you, I suggest you just sit tight; there's a monitor in the cafeteria, if you want to see what's happening outside." She glanced at the one-eyed pilot. "Falcon...?"

"Right." He pulled out his pocket computer and tossed it to Mir. "That has a schematic of the ship; you should be able to find the cafeteria easily enough." He turned away. "Come on, Kira. Oh," he added, looking back at Mir, "don't lose that; it has some important data on it."

"I won't, Falcon," Mir promised. "Good luck, both of you."

"We won't need it," the Grimaldi Falcon said confidently. "But thanks."

Murrue Ramius headed for the Bridge, while Kira Yamato and Falcon DiFalco began moving quickly to the hanger. The _Archangel_ was preparing for battle once again... and ZAFT's Ace of Aces was getting ready to open fire on his own comrades...

* * *

Author's notes: Falcon has run into his sister on the _Archangel,_ with neither of them enjoying the experience; and it seems she knows something about both her brother and Kira… 

Before long, Falcon will face his best friend once again… this time, on the field of battle…

White Shadow, thanks for being the first to review; I hope it will meet with your approval.

Arekuruu-inabikari-no-She, the connection between Falcon and Dearka is indeed modeled after Kira and Athrun; and they'll have an argumentative meeting of their come, come the events of Phase 5. Falcon, however, would be a little more willing to fire on his friend than Kira is.

Ominae, I wouldn't exactly call myself a SEED 'otaku' (though at least I know what it means) but I _am_ a definite fan. Besides, I needed something to keep me busy while waiting to be able to begin the sequel to Brothers in Arms, and this idea seemed pretty good.

Daniel Lynx, next chapter you will get to see Raptor in action; let's just say that Olor and Matthew will meet a slightly different fate this time around.

You may be interested to know that Raptor will not be the only Gundam Falcon flies in this story; and this time, it'll a mobile suit of my own design.

Centurious, I will be keeping an eye out for it, and I'll let you know if there are any inconsistencies.

RVD, Falcon isn't working for Orb -at the moment- but he certainly does have his own agenda, which will be revealed bit by bit as the story progresses.

As for why he quit ZAFT, that's something that won't be properly revealed for quite some time yet…

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, I'm glad to hear you like it. And before you crucify me for not updating the Second Story, let me reiterate that I'm working on it. This chapter may be a little shorter than most, but it's coming.

Deathzealot, glad you like it. Updates unfortunately will not be as frequent as with Brothers in Arms (which I had mostly complete by the time I started posting it), but they shouldn't take _too_ long, either.

That should about wrap things up. Let me know how it is. -Solid Shark


	3. Chapter 3: Heliopolis Shattered

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

Falcon and Kira entered the hanger together, mere minutes after Murrue talked to them and they learned of the impending ZAFT attack. 

Falcon looked as if he wasn't even the slightest bit tense, and Kira looked at him enviously. _He's got a lot of battle experience already,_ he thought. _He probably _isn't_ worried... lucky him._

The one-eyed pilot glanced at him. "Nervous, Kira?"

"Yeah," Kira said frankly.

"Good." When the younger Coordinator looked at him in surprise, Falcon lifted an eyebrow. "Kira, if you weren't scared, I'd refuse to fly with you. Fearless pilots are also generally soon-to-be-dead pilots; they take chances they shouldn't and end up in a coffin... if there's enough left to bury. They also tend to put their comrades in danger, as I should know."

Kira blinked. "But aren't _you_ fearless?"

Falcon snorted. "People say I don't have any _warm_ feelings, Kira; nobody ever said I don't get scared."

Kira found that somehow reassuring. If even this top ZAFT ace felt fear before battle, despite having come out on top in _every_ major space battle of the war, maybe this wasn't such a big thing to worry about after all.

"Well, Kira," the pilot said, clapping him on the shoulder, "we'd better mount up. See you on the battlefield... and be careful."

"You too, Falcon."

The two went to their respective mobile suits, and Falcon pulled on his helmet. His first order of business, upon entering the cockpit and activating main power, was, of course, to connect the cable from his flight suit to the machine's power supply. The consequences of forgetting that particular detail would be... unpleasant.

Then he activated the radio. "Bridge, this is DiFalco," he called. "All systems green." He glanced at his displays. "Looks like the Strike is ready, too."

_"Roger that,"_ Natarle replied._ "Commander DiFalco, we will now begin moving your mobile suit to the port catapult; stand by."_

"Affirmative." Falcon didn't bother to correct her form of address; he knew by now that Natarle was a professional soldier, from a family of professional soldiers, and found it much more comfortable to refer to him by his old military rank. "Standing by."

Another voice soon came over the radio. _"Falcon, this is Sophia, do you read me?"_

He frowned. _Another complication. What does she want?_ "What do you want, Sophia?" _If she wants to rant at me, now really isn't the time... and she of all people should know what the destruction of Junius Seven meant to me._

"Listen, Falcon, you've got to be careful with those wired gunbarrels, okay? They soak up a lot of power if you use them too much-"

"Don't tell me how to fly mobile suits, and I won't tell you how to design them," he said calmly. "Deal?"

_"I'm not trying to tell you how to fly,"_ Sophia said, exasperated._ "I'm just telling you a few things you need to know about that machine if you want to live, okay?"_

"Whatever." Now Falcon was just impatient to launch. "Any other surprises I should know about?"

He could hear the shrug in her voice when she next spoke. _"Not really; though you might be interested to know the Raptor can use some of the Strike's weapons too, like the Schwerht Gewerh and the Agni."_ She hesitated. _"Falcon, there's a lot we need to talk about-"_

"I've got nothing to say to you," he cut in coldly. "Put Ensign Badgiruel back on."

As they were arguing, the Raptor had been moved into the catapult; now Natarle's voice came back on. _"Connected to catapult, Commander,"_ she reported; her tone was that of someone who'd just had the misfortune to overhear a family dispute. _"Ready when you are."_

"Roger that. One moment." Falcon switched frequencies. "You ready, Kira?"

He heard a sigh. "Ready as I'll ever be, Falcon."

"Good." Falcon flipped back. "We're ready to launch, Ensign. Sitrep?"

_"Checking now, Commander."_ There was a muffled discussion. Then,_ "We have incoming ZAFT machines, Commander DiFalco. Three GINNs, two armed with missiles and one with a particle cannon... and the Aegis."_ Natarle's voice was grim._ "Guess you were right. Either Le Creuset is determined to blow up this ship, or he wants your head on a platter."_

"Probably both," Falcon muttered. "All right, Ensign. We're good to go." He gripped the controls a little tighter. "Grimaldi Falcon, launching."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Mu watched the two machines go with a slightly wistful feeling. _I should be going out there, too,_ he thought. _But my mobile armor needs work... thanks to Falcon and Le Creuset._

"There they go," Murrue murmured from the captain's chair. "Well, I suppose we'd better get ready ourselves, shouldn't we?"

"Right." Mu, in CIC, glanced at Natarle. "Okay, Ensign. Activate CIWS... though I doubt we'll need it."

"You're _that_ confident?" Natarle said dubiously.

"If you'd been at Endymion, you would be, too."

Next to the Ensign sat Sophia, who was -as usual- muttering to herself. "Falcon must have been up to his eyebrows in something big, if they're _this_ determined to kill him..."

Murrue settled for watching the two machines go out. Kira, for reasons known only to himself, was making a beeline for the Aegis; Falcon, on the other hand, was going straight for the pair of missile-armed GINNs.

"GINNs incoming," Mu commented. "Prepare to fire."

A crackle of static from the radio, and Falcon's voice came on. _"Negative, _Archangel._ Weapons tight; I'll handle it."_

"Whatever you say, Falcon." The Hawk turned to Natarle. "Belay that last order, Ensign."

She shook her head in bemusement. "He intends to take on both of them by himself? Is he brave, crazy, or both? Or just suicidal?"

"Just watch," Mu advised. "If Falcon says he can handle it, he can handle it." _I think._

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Interior

* * *

While Kira headed off for the Aegis, and got sidetracked by Miguel Aiman along the way, Falcon went straight for the other two GINNs. 

He thought for a moment about how to introduce himself -beam rifle, saber, or actual words- and finally shrugged. He tuned the radio to standard ZAFT frequencies, and opened his mouth.

The two pilots obviously heard the inhuman wail. "So it _is_ you, Grimaldi Falcon!" one of them hissed.

"You traitor!" the other accused.

Falcon's eye narrowed. "That would be Olor and Matthew, am I right?" Raptor's beam rifle came up. "Don't make me do this. Please, just back off, and nobody'll get hurt, understand?"

"You think we're just going to let you go?" Matthew scoffed at the notion. "I don't know what could have made you turn traitor, Commander, but our orders are clear."

Falcon sighed, not realizing Le Creuset had given his people very different orders from what he thought. "So be it." He uttered the falcon's hunting call again, and went for a beam saber.

Meanwhile, Kira and the "Magic Bullet of Dusk" were facing off. "You're out of your league, Natural," Miguel Aiman muttered, unaware of the true identity of the Strike pilot. "You'll never be good enough to beat _me_ in a fair fight."

Probably not true; and also irrelevant. A G-weapon against a GINN was a pure slaughter.

Darting sideways to dodge an opening missile attack, Falcon spared a moment's attention for the brewing conflict between Kira and Miguel. "Just stay cool," he advised his fellow pilot. "You can take him, Kira." He flipped back to a ZAFT frequency. "Miguel, I strongly suggest you retreat before we're forced to destroy you."

"Shut up, traitor!" Those were the only words Miguel was willing to spend on his former teammate, before he opened fire with his particle cannon, forcing Kira to dodge.

Falcon refocused his attention on his own pair of opponents, mind already going through tactical choices. _Probability of success of disabling attack... forty percent. Probability of success of mere disarming attack... fifty-five percent. Better than even odds, but not good enough to bet my life on them._

That eliminated several variables, and presented several more. _Olor in front, Matthew behind... if I attack one, the other will return fire... I need to neutralize both threats at once... therefore... Yes. That will work._

Beam saber in hand, Falcon rushed Olor's GINN, arm sweeping in a backhand slash to cut it in half... while the Death Blossom's deployed, pointed backwards, and opened fire.

Both attacks were directed at the cockpits.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Mu whistled, watching the two machines detonate nearly simultaneously. "Looks like the Grimaldi Falcon hasn't lost his touch," he murmured approvingly. He glanced over at the other two officers in CIC. "Still got any doubts about him?" 

Natarle shook her head. "No, Lieutenant. Attacking the CGUE might have been an act, but not killing those two pilots."

"That's what _you_ think," Sophia muttered; but quietly.

"That just leaves the last GINN and the Aegis," Murrue said to herself. "Falcon, can you assist the Strike?"

_"Affirmative,"_ Falcon replied._ "But I won't." _Before anyone could utter a protest, he went on calmly,_ "That GINN is no match for the Strike; and if I'm right the Aegis won't be eager to attack him. Kira needs the practice, Murrue, if he's going to survive. This should give it to him without being too life-threatening."_

Murrue frowned. "I don't like it... but I guess you're the expert."

That's_ true enough,_ she thought. _I've never seen GINNs go down that fast, even with Kira at the controls..._

No one noticed that the pair of GINNs still had intact arms... and missile launchers.

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Interior

* * *

_This is bad,_ Kira thought, dodging another shot from Miguel._ If he keeps that up, he'll destroy the colony... What am I gonna do?_

Fortunately he hadn't been listening to Falcon's radio chatter; else he might have been annoyed.

"It's only a matter of time, Natural," Miguel taunted. "Why not just give up, and die easy?" He fired yet another shot.

This time, Kira didn't dodge. This time, he took it on his rocket anchor, identical to the one mounted on the Raptor, and disappeared in a flash of light.

Miguel grinned. "So long, loser!" He turned and began to boost away, intent on carrying out his other objectives: destroying the _Archangel,_ and taking in Falcon... dead or alive.

Then something came out of the blast behind him, yelling incoherently. Before the GINN could turn around, Kira brought the Strike's Schwerht Gewerh antiship blade down in a diagonal cut, opening the ZAFT machine from right shoulder to left hip... going right through the cockpit in the process.

Miguel "Magic Bullet of Dusk" Aiman screamed as the blade cut into his body, then died as his machine exploded, like a moth in a flame.

Two people, besides Kira, observed the mobile suit's destruction, one of them with outright horror. _"Miguel!"_ Athrun Zala shouted, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

The other watched his former teammate die with no expression whatsoever. "As summer bugs fly into fire," he whispered. _Tiger, tiger, burning bright, in the forest of the night... Goodbye, Miguel, Olor, Matthew... You are the first I have slain, or helped to slay, but I fear you will not be the last._

A face drifted before Falcon's mind's eye, one with blond hair and an easy, if often sarcastic, smile. Someone with whom he'd endured fire and death, battle... and friendship.

He closed his eye. _Dearka... I hope you don't have a mobile suit right now, because if you do, and if you're ordered into battle with the _Archangel..._ I may have no choice but to kill _you,_ too._

Falcon opened his eye and keyed his radio. "Kira, you okay? Kira?"

There was no response, because Kira was now fixated on the Aegis... whose pilot heard Falcon's transmission. "Kira..." Athrun whispered. "Kira Yamato! It _is_ you, isn't it!"

Kira went pale. _No... please, no..._ "Athrun...?" He swallowed hard. "Is that you, Athrun Zala?"

The two were understandably horrified to find each other on opposite sides. Up until three years ago, they'd been the best of friends...

_"The PLANTs and Earth _will_ see eye to eye," a young Athrun said reassuringly. "There won't be a war." He paused, handing Kira a green-feathered mechanical bird, known as Birdy. "You'll join me later in the PLANTs, right, Kira?"_

Athrun stared at the Strike, his worst fears confirmed. _No... First the news that the Grimaldi Falcon betrayed us... and now you, Kira?_

_This can't be happening,_ Kira told himself._ It _can't_ be!_

The Aegis' pilot finally found his voice. "Just what are you doing here, Kira?" he demanded.

"I should ask you the same thing!" Kira retorted. "What are you doing with ZAFT?"

It was Falcon who first noticed the incipient danger, as he glanced idly at the remains of the GINNs he'd whacked. Then he did a double take. "Kira, get out of there!" he called, urgency actually causing him to raise his voice. "Those GINNs are still-"

Too late.

The limited computer systems in the GINNs' missiles finally toke note of the fact that the machines carrying them were completely out of action. This, as Falcon correctly anticipated, triggered their activation circuits.

They launched; and, deprived of their primary target -_Archangel_ being outside their targeting view- sped off for the colony's central shaft.

Falcon bit off a curse, realizing he could do nothing for Kira. He instead turned directly toward the _Archangel,_ and fired his Panzer Eisen rocket anchor. It caught hold of one of the ship's Igelstellungs, just as the missiles struck the shaft.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"The colony is starting to come apart!" Sophia called to Murrue. "Those last hits busted something that _really_ shouldn't have been busted!" 

"Recall our mobile suits!" Murrue ordered. "Hurry!"

Cracks were beginning to appear in the colony's outer wall, while the central shaft collapsed. "Raptor has already latched onto the ship," Natarle reported. "There's no time to bring him into the hanger, but he can ride it out from there."

"What about the Strike?" Mu demanded. "Is the kid okay?"

"He's being sucked out one of the breaches," Sophia responded. "And- oh, my word..."

The Bridge crew watched in stunned silence as the neutral resource satellite Heliopolis simply came apart around them.

* * *

_Gamow,_ Pilot's Ready Room

* * *

Dearka watched Heliopolis split apart, and felt an empty hole in his stomach. _Falcon... tell me you made it... please..._

He wasn't alone in staring at the cataclysm. "The colony..." Nicol whispered. "It's... it's gone... How...? How could it have come to this...?"

Yzak shifted uncomfortably. "The root of it all is the Earth Forces, of course," he pointed out. "They were the ones who chose to violate Heliopolis' neutrality. But... judging from telemetry from Olor and Matthew's GINNs, after they died but before the collapse, it looks like the Grimaldi Falcon accidently did it himself."

Dearka rounded on his teammate. "Wait a minute, Yzak! Falcon may have betrayed us, but he'd _never-!"_

The white-haired pilot raised his hands. "Whoa, there, Dearka. I said 'accidently', didn't I? Look, I'm not as inclined to give Commander DiFalco the benefit of the doubt as you are, but I'll agree he wouldn't have done _this_ intentionally." He nodded at a wall screen, which had moments before shown the data from the GINNs' still-intact head cameras. "It looks like, when he failed to destroy them completely, the GINNs' missile racks were still intact, and they activated by themselves. If he'd either taken them out completely or left them alone, this probably wouldn't have happened." His voice hardened. "But the fact that he killed two of our pilots in the first place confirms that he _has_ turned traitor, doesn't it?"

"Yzak-!" Dearka broke off, sighed, and turned back to the viewport. "I just don't get it... I've known the guy for ten years... How could you _do_ this, Falcon?"

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Falcon stepped onto the Bridge, still in his flight suit, and looked immediately at the main screen. "You've gone too far, Rau," he whispered, eye narrow. "Too far..." _Morgenroete was a legitimate military target. _Archangel_ is a legitimate military target. The commando raid was fine, the bombing of the _Archangel_ was fine... even the mobile suit attack may be justifiable. But you do _not_ use bunker-busters in a civilian colony!_

Mu pulled himself out of CIC and floated by the pilot's side. "It's gone..." he whispered, stunned. "It was... so fragile..." He looked at the one-eyed pilot. "I guess you were right about what lengths Le Creuset would go to to destroy this ship... and you."

Falcon nodded grimly. "Another crime for which Rau must pay." He closed his eye. "And proof my decision four months ago was justified."

"I never thought they'd actually do it..." Murrue murmured, horrified. "Ensign Badgiruel, what's the status on the shelters? Did they make it out?"

Natarle broke out of her own daze and checked her instruments. "Looks that way, Ma'am; hard to say, though, with all this debris."

She nodded. "Understood. Falcon..." she began, turning to the pilot; and stopped abruptly. "You're wounded!"

Falcon glanced down, noting the blood that had begun to stain his flight suit, just above his right hip; at the same moment, the pain hit him, and he grunted. "Got shot during the attack on Morgenroete," he said through suddenly gritted teeth. "Forgot about it in all the excitement."

"The doctor may have made it," Sophia said, concerned. "You'd better-"

"No," her brother cut her off sharply. "I'll deal with it myself; still have my old ZAFT medical kit..." He turned, heading for the Bridge elevator. "If you'll excuse me..."

She tried to stop him. "Wait, Falcon, you should really get a doctor to-"

Even injured, Falcon was no weakling. He easily pushed her away, and opened the elevator hatch. "I told you I'll deal with it myself," he said coldly, and left.

Sophia and Murrue exchanged confused looks. "What was _that_ about?" the acting-captain wondered.

* * *

ZAFT _Nazca_-class destroyer _Vesalius,_ Bridge

* * *

"Commander..." Captain Fredrik Ades whispered. 

Le Creuset nodded grimly. "I didn't expect it to come to this," he admitted. "But now that it has... we need to continue our mission."

Ades looked at him, eyebrows raised. "You really think they survived _that,_ sir?"

"The legged ship might be gone," the masked man conceded, "but probably not; and the Grimaldi Falcon _certainly_ isn't. He survived Endymion; the mere destruction of a colony around him won't stop him." He stroked his chin. "Are there any other ships in the area?"

A crewman consulted his instruments. "One, Commander; the _Nacht Jaeger._ Presently on a patrol mission, keeping an eye on the Artemis Base."

_"Nacht Jaeger..."_ Le Creuset mused. "Commander Huckebein's ship; somehow apt, under the circumstances." He turned to his radio operator. "Prepare a message for Commander Huckebein," he ordered.

* * *

ZAFT _Nazca-_class destroyer _Nacht Jaeger_ ("Night Fighter"), Bridge

* * *

"Message coming through, Commander," _Nacht Jaeger_'s radio operator reported. "It's from Commander Le Creuset." 

His commander moved closer. "Oh?"

The man known only as "Commander Huckebein" looked similar to Le Creuset, in that he wore the white uniform of a ZAFT commander. He also wore a mask, but his covered all but his mouth and chin, hiding even his hair; the end of a scar was visible, apparently beginning in the vicinity of his right eye socket, though it was hard to be sure.

He also wore a katana at his side.

"So what do we have?" Huckebein asked; from his voice, he was in his mid-teens, but then so was the Grimaldi Falcon.

The radio man looked at the text in disbelief. "Sir... the Grimaldi Falcon has resurfaced! He fought against the Le Creuset team at Heliopolis!"

Huckebein took the hardcopy message and returned to his seat. "That's interesting..." he murmured, taking little notice of the reference to Heliopolis' destruction. "So he's alive... as I expected."

In fact, he'd have expected no less.

It reminded the young commander of his final training, before he joined a team; though he'd gone through the ZAFT academy early in its existence, in C.E. 68, he hadn't completed mobile suit training yet. And his commander had exacting standards.

_"This isn't a game, Mister," the idiosyncratic commander said sharply, after a simulator run. "You keep flying like that, and you'll end up dead."_

_"But sir," Huckebein protested, "it's only training-"_

_"Train like you fight, fight like you train. That's a basic precept of war, Mister. If you don't learn that, you won't survive."_

_The commander was individualistic, as were many soldiers in the largely-informal Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty. His personal additions to the uniform -unlike most commanders, he wore red, not white- were a gray trench coat, with gray feathers on the collar, and a katana thrust through his belt._

_"Once you understand the difference between reality and a video game," he went on, "you'll have begun to understand how you can survive on the battlefield. But if you _don't_ get that understanding, you won't survive a second of the real deal."_

Huckebein had learned a lot from the commander, and took it to heart. Mobile suit training was only part of it; the man also taught tactics, strategy, and the martial arts.

The pupil had also paid careful attention to _those_ lessons.

"How do you determine what kinds of fighting are honorable?" Huckebein asked, facing his commander with a sword in his hand. "Is it how dangerous a weapon is, or how many people it can kill?"

The commander shook his head, circling his pupil. "First of all, Huckebein, there aren't any dangerous weapons; only dangerous people. Second..." He finally moved his blade, parrying Huckebein's strike. "Honor's not in the weapon," he finished, sending his student's blade flying with a rapid parry. "It's in the man."

Huckebein nodded, not yet fully understanding, and went to retrieve his blade. As he did so, he realized he was bleeding. "Wha-?"

"Get used to it," the commander advised him. "That blade is one of the symbols of this team; and we always train with live blades, so the occasional cut or gash is to be expected. Don't worry, we've got fine medical personnel here."

Yes, Huckebein still bore the scars from his tenure with the team, but he regretted none of them; and, like all the team's survivors, he still carried the katana that was their trademark.

All of which would have been completely irrelevant, had Le Creuset's message been about anyone else.

"Orders, sir?"

Huckebein looked up, startled from his reverie by his flag captain, Kyle Kreitzman's, question; a question that required a few moments of deliberation. "Umm..." he said thoughtfully. "We wait, for now," the commander decided. "If this 'legged ship' should happen to escape Commander Le Creuset, we'll go after her ourselves... carefully. For now, though, shut down all active emissions; the Earth Forces' detection equipment is very good, and I'd imagine this new vessel has the best. Besides which, Commander DiFalco is a very shrewd man."

"Yes sir," Kreitzman acknowledged, and turned to give the appropriate orders.

_We'll meet again soon, Grimaldi Falcon,_ Huckebein thought._ And then we'll see how well you taught your people... Sir._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Falcon's quarters

* * *

Falcon was relieved he'd managed to avoid running into anyone on the way to his quarters. Now that he was here, it was more than his gunshot wound bothering him. 

_Idiot!_ he berated himself._ Birdbrain! With the blood leaking out, your heart has to pump faster, and you _know_ what that does to you!_

Feeling the onset of the symptoms rapidly approaching, Falcon fumbled at his belt, hurriedly pulling a rectangular box from a pouch; he then yanked a cable from it, almost breaking it in his haste. By the time he tore open the chest of his flightsuit, he was feeling the pain, and he was gasping for breath as his heart faltered. Moving _very_ quickly now, he connected the device's cable to the strange metal socket protruding from his chest.

Within seconds, as the power began to flow, Falcon's heart rate picked up again, recovering from the incipient heart attack; for which he was very grateful. The last time this occurred, he hadn't gotten the auxiliary power unit connected in time... an error that had landed him in the infirmary for a few hours, following a near-_fatal_ heart attack.

With that taken care of, he was able to turn his attention to the gunshot wound. Fortunately, it hadn't hit anything vital, but it still hurt like blazes, bled a lot, and had a bullet _in_ it. That had to change immediately.

"Pity lead isn't ferrous," he muttered. "Then I could just use a magnet on the thing. Instead, I get to do it the old fashioned way..."

Falcon went to his backpack and pulled out the ZAFT medical kit it still contained. It, unlike anything the _Archangel_ would have, was meant for treating Coordinators, and also had a packet of the appropriate blood type. It also contained a crude bullet-extractor, something he'd personally added to the kit. Before Heliopolis, he'd gotten shot twice before, in quick succession, and hadn't liked it.

Wincing, he moved the flightsuit material from the wound, stuck the extractor in, and pulled. "Ahh... oh, I forgot how much that hurts..." Falcon stared at the projectile for a moment, reflecting on how close it came to killing him, and the cast it away. He had to patch up the hole now; with the bullet gone, the blood would flow more freely. "Ugh, I _hate_ those things."

After bandaging the wound, Falcon considered the flightsuit, and finally tossed it aside. It was undamaged -he'd taken the hit before putting the thing on- but it was just a tad blood-soaked; not the sort of thing one preferred to appear in public in, especially when one was trying to maintain a certain image.

So, distasteful as the notion was, he went back to the Earth Forces blue he'd worn before the battle.

Soon, it would be time to return to the Bridge; both to see if they'd found Kira yet, and to provide input on Le Creuset's tactics while they planned their next move.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Murrue, we're finally getting a signal through to the Strike," Sophia reported, relieved. "He hasn't acknowledged yet, but he's out there." 

Murrue sighed. "Thank goodness. Ensign Badgiruel, continue hailing the Strike; Sophia, I'd like you to check over your brother's battle data. Especially his use of the Death Blossom system. It was my understanding that only a very small percentage of humanity, Natural or Coordinator, was even capable of using it."

"So was I," Sophia admitted, while Natarle began transmitting. "On the other hand, Falcon's never been what you'd call average; and his kinesthesia scores are among the highest I've ever seen."

Mu nodded thoughtfully. "I'm not surprised. Seeing him in battle before, well... It was something, believe me."

"Oh, I believe you," she said darkly. "I remember when he about blew the stuffing out of my ship..."

* * *

Heliopolis Ruins, Strike

* * *

Kira stared at the wreckage that had once been Heliopolis with something deeper than shock. He was paralyzed, barely breathing, by what he'd just seen. _How... how _could_ they...?_

It took several minutes before he realized the radio was talking to him. _"Kira Yamato! Are you out there? Please respond! Strike!"_

He shook himself, and keyed the mike. "Uh, X105 Strike here... barely."

On the other end, Natarle sighed in relief. _"Glad to hear you. Are you okay?"_

"Yes," Kira managed, staring around again.

_"If you can move, return to the ship,"_ she said._ "Do you have our beacon?"_

He checked his displays. "Yes."

"Then come on in."

"Right." Kira paused. "Uh, did Falcon make it?"

Natarle snorted. _"Make it? We're beginning to think the guy's invincible."_ She cut the transmission.

He sagged. _Good... Maybe now I won't have to fight anymore... and even if I do, at least I'll have some backup besides Lieutenant La Flaga..._

The Strike's instruments suddenly began to beep, and Kira frowned. Tapping controls, he enhanced the section on his display from which the signal was coming. "A lifeboat? It must be from Heliopolis..."

Changing course, he charged after it. _Mom, Dad..._ he thought as he went. _You're safe, right?_

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"The Strike should be on its way back, Captain," Natarle reported. "I still can't see him in the debris, but I was finally able to contact him." 

"Good," Murrue acknowledged, smiling in relief. "Keep me posted."

"Well, that's one detail taken care of," Mu commented. "Now we just have to figure out what to do next." He raised an eyebrow. "You... think they'll come after us?"

"They will," Falcon said, exiting the lift. "Rau will not give up now, not after all the trouble he's gone to so far... not after what he's learned."

"I agree," Murrue said.

"Which eliminates several options, and provides us with another set," Sophia mused. "We _could_ just blast right through them..."

"Obviously you're not used to this line of work," the one-eyed pilot said with a snort. "We have two G-weapons and the Zero; Rau has _four_ G-weapons, with a demonstrated willingness to use them."

"Maybe we could outrun them," Mu suggested. "The _Archangel_-class mobile assault ships are pretty fast, or so I hear."

Murrue shook her head. "The enemy's _Nazca_-class is a swift vessel as well; there's no guarantee of us losing them, even with a decent head-start."

"Correct," Falcon agreed. "In fact, our _failure_ to escape would be virtually guaranteed."

"We could always surrender..." the Hawk said slowly. "Much as we may dislike it, it _is_ an option, you know; though of course I'd rather not..."

"If you were to choose that course of action," the ex-ZAFT ace said softly, "I would be obliged to first step out an airlock without a suit."

Sophia gasped. "You don't mean that!"

"I certainly do." His one-eyed gaze swept over all of them. "Understand something: I will _die_ before I allow my former comrades to get their hands on me. I know they would do that to me for my treason... but only after they interrogated me. I know too much, and I won't allow ZAFT to get hold of any information I may carry."

She stared at him, and started to speak, but Mu raised a hand, forestalling her protest. "I see," he said. "Well, I wasn't seriously considering it anyway..."

_But,_ he thought,_ I wonder why you reacted so strongly? Your sister may say you have all the warm feelings of a brick, but it's obvious you can feel fear... and that kind of hate I'm getting from you isn't exactly cold._ Mu distinctly recalled Falcon's cryptic explanation of his motives for leaving ZAFT._ What is it you know, or did? What could make_ you,_ of all people, betray ZAFT?_

He knew he wasn't going to get an answer to that question, at least not yet.

"So what _do_ we do?" Murrue asked, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "We can't give up, we can't run away, and I don't think we can just hide here till they go away. We could fight... but they have four G-weapons, to our two G-weapons and a mobile armor."

Falcon stepped forward. "In difficult ground, press on. In encircled ground, devise stratagems. In death ground... fight."

Murrue frowned. "Sun Tzu?"

"The Art of War," he confirmed. He looked Mu right in the eye. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Mu?"

The other pilot slowly smiled. "We're in encircled ground, aren't we? So, what do you recommend, Grimaldi Falcon?"

"A deception, Hawk of Endymion." Falcon stroked his chin. _"Archangel_ has decoys, correct?"

"Right," Sophia acknowledged. "So?"

He gazed at the main display. "Here's what we do: first, we-"

Natarle's voice interrupted him. "What did you say? On whose authority?"

Murrue turned to look into CIC. "What is it, Ensign?"

"The Strike has returned, Captain," Natarle replied. "But he's carrying what appears to be a Heliopolis lifeboat, and wants to bring it aboard!"

Falcon's eye turned to her. "And the problem is?" he said in a dangerously quite voice.

She returned his non-expression with a glare. "In case it slipped your notice, Commander DiFalco, the _Archangel_ is top-secret military technology. We can't just let civilians come aboard-"

"A little late," he retorted. "Kira and the others are already here; and in case it slipped _your_ notice, I'm a former ZAFT pilot."

"But-"

"Very well," Murrue interrupted with a sigh. "Give him permission. We don't have time to argue over such petty matters," she added sharply, when it looked like the ensign would protest. "Just give him permission, so that he'll land and we can get underway."

Natarle looked sullen, but obeyed nonetheless. "As you command, Captain."

Mu shook his head, but refrained from commenting. "Well, then," he said after a moment. "You were saying, Falcon?"

Seemingly unperturbed, Falcon went on calmly. "I was saying that we first need to choose a destination, before we can make any detailed plans. Given where we are... I would think Artemis would be the best choice -and perhaps only- choice."

"Artemis..." Murrue murmured thoughtfully.

"The Eurasian base with the light-wave barrier, right?" Mu scratched his head. "You're probably right about it being the only place in range, especially since we seem to have a small supply problem. But we may have another problem: _Archangel_ doesn't have recognition codes to identify her to any of our allies."

"At this point, a relatively minor concern, I think." Falcon frowned. "What concerns me is that intelligence reports I read before my desertion indicated that an unmitigated jackass named Garcia is in charge there, and he likely _would_ try something... untoward, if only to strengthen Eurasia's -and his own- position."

The Hawk disguised an aborted laugh as a coughing fit, but it was hard. That description of Garcia -whom Mu had heard things about, none of them good- would probably have been amusing under any circumstances, but coming from someone who spoke so tonelessly... _I could _swear_ that guy has a sense of humor..._

"I suppose it'll have to do," Murrue decided. "Though we should probably be cautious. Now, what was the rest of your plan?"

The one-eyed pilot took another look at the display. "First of all, Artemis is just about the last place ZAFT forces would expect us to go. They'll expect us to head for the Ptolemaeus Base, on the Moon... not realizing we haven't the supplies to make it that far." He began to pace -or attempt its zero-gravity equivalent, at any rate- still thinking. "Bearing that in mind, we launch a decoy -with my knowledge of _Nazca_-class detection systems, I can make it all the more believable- on a logical course to the Moon. Then, while _Vesalius_ hopefully heads off after our decoy, we point ourselves in the direction of Artemis, run the engines long enough to gain some decent speed, and then cut them off, using inertia to cross the remaining distance."

"A silent run, in other words," Natarle remarked, coming up out of CIC. "I like it, Captain."

"One thing, though," Falcon cautioned. "Rau isn't stupid; I highly doubt this will fool him. But it might buy us some time; and remember, he doesn't operate in a vacuum. He has to give the opinions of his subordinates _some_ weight, and he also has to consider what'll happen if he's _wrong."_

"Then we'll go with it," Murrue decided. "Falcon, Sophia, you two get to work on modifying the decoys; but first, I want you to take a detour down to the hanger, see how things are going with Kira and that lifeboat."

"Got it, Murrue," Sophia acknowledged, casting a glance at her brother; who, for his part, merely nodded, not revealing the distaste he felt at the notion of having to work with his sister.

After the pair had left, Murrue rubbed her temples. "You know, I think having both of them on the same ship is going to be a _real_ headache."

Mu nodded, smiling slightly. "I'll grant it'll be interesting." He raised an eyebrow. "So, you go way back with those two, huh?"

"Yeah." She settled back into the command chair. "Sophia was a classmate of mine at the Academy -this was, of course, before the Alliance was formed- my roommate, and my best friend. I had occasion, during those years, to meet Falcon. He was just a kid back then, but smart; and not somebody you wanted to irritate." She smiled in memory. "He was about nine at the time, I think, but already into the martial arts; not quite at the brick-breaking level quite yet, but good enough to make potential attackers lose interest."

"Hm." The Hawk scratched his head. "Was he much like the Falcon you met earlier today?"

"Not in the least," Murrue said emphatically. "A bit quiet, but in the manner of a budding intellectual, not a cold-blooded warrior; and-" She broke off, frowning. "That's odd."

Mu tilted his head. "What is?"

The frown deepened. "I don't remember him having brown hair..."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

"Falcon," Sophia said, as they entered, "we need to talk." 

"Later," Falcon said coolly. "Not now."

She sighed. _I _knew_ it. Either puberty hit with a vengeance, or Doctor Metzinger's work was as far along as I feared; and this looks to be more than mere hormones._

Ahead of them, the lifeboat's hatch was opening, with Kira hovering a couple of meters away, Birdie circling his head. A face appeared... one which apparently surprised Kira.

The girl seemed equally surprised. "Hey! I know you! You're Kira, right?" She pushed off, slamming into Kira and sending them both drifting across the hanger.

"Flay Allster?" Falcon and Kira said simultaneously, in varying degrees of surprise and volume.

"I can't believe we're safe," Flay was saying. "I lost my friends in a store, and the alarms were going, and.. When I finally made it to a shelter, everything just went crazy!"

"You're safe now, Flay," Kira said reassuringly. "Everything's going to be okay."

"But isn't this a ZAFT ship?" she protested. "And what are _you_ doing here, anyway?"

"It's not ZAFT," he told her. "This ship belongs to the Earth Forces."

"That's a lie," Flay accused. "There are mobile suits here!"

"As a matter of fact," Falcon informed her, coming close, "they were designed by the Earth Forces and built by Morgenroete; else ZAFT wouldn't have been attacking in the first place." His eye narrowed. "And I can assure you this isn't a ZAFT ship; if it were, they would probably have killed me by now."

She peered at him, confused. "Uh... Falcon, isn't it?" She remembered his nickname, at least; there weren't too many people in Heliopolis who wore eyepatches. "Why would they?"

Sophia smiled crookedly. "Kira, please explain certain facts about my brother, will you?"

"Uh, right." Kira cleared his throat. "Uh, Flay, Falcon is..."

"Ken DiFalco," the one-eyed pilot introduced. "Known to some as the Falcon of Grimaldi... and now also known as a traitor to ZAFT." His eye closed. "So no, this is not a ZAFT ship. If it were, I would not be here... and they will never let me go back."

"I see..." Flay murmured, still confused but now a little mollified.

"Kira, please get her squared away," Sophia requested. "Falcon and I have business elsewhere."

"Right, Lieutenant." Kira smiled at Flay. "Hey, guess what? Sai and Miriallia are here, too. Don't worry, everything's going to be just fine."

They headed off, and Sophia turned to Falcon. "Flay Allster? Did you say that was _Flay Allster?"_

He nodded. "Yes, it is; we were classmates at the Heliopolis college. Your point?"

"Don't you get it? That was the daughter of Vice Foreign Minister _George_ Allster, Falcon! Do you have any idea how important-"

"Don't care," he said shortly. "I know exactly who she is, and who her father is, and frankly, I don't like Minister Allster. He and his ilk tried to impose that blockade on the PLANTs in 69, among other things."

"The PLANTs had provoked-" she began hotly.

"Don't talk to me about how the PLANTs started it, sister," Falcon said coldly. "The restrictions -and quotas- placed upon us by the sponsor nations were simply intolerable; we have our own free will."

"Revolution isn't the answer-"

"Revolution was the _only_ answer." His icy blue gaze bore into hers. "We tried negotiation, sister. We tried 'economic sanctions', the 'solution' those idiots in the old United Nations were so enamored of. And, just like with Cuba and a half dozen other places back in the twentieth A.D., it didn't work. They wouldn't listen to us, they made demands of us; they even tried to blockade us." He snorted. "Not their brightest move. My comrades and I broke their blockade with absurd ease. No, sister, the Revolution was the _only_ option left to us, especially after we were framed for the Copernicus bombing. Though of course," he added, "some good _did_ come of it. Those deadweight imbeciles in the U.N. council were removed from the equation."

"The PLANTs weren't 'framed', Falcon," Sophia said, glaring at her brother. "Headquarters said-"

"Headquarters? You actually _believe_ those bigoted bastards?" Falcon shook his head. "It's a proven fact that Blue Cosmos orchestrated the bombing in order to bring about war. But I will grant you this: war was probably inevitable. One day soon, we would have attacked, in order to preserve ourselves, our freedom... the security of our future generations."

"And so you decided to cause an energy crisis on Earth," she said in disgust. "Causing who knows how many people to die of starvation, thanks to your cursed N-jammers."

"'Those cursed N-jammers', Sister," he said, a curious look in his eye, "are the only reason humanity still exists." Before she could question that bizarre statement, he went on, "And don't forget that Operation Uroboros and the April Fool Crisis were launched only after the Earth Alliance used _nuclear weapons_ on Junius Seven, killing 243,721 people." He turned away. "Can you really justify the attack that destroyed the place where I was born?"

Sophia didn't reply... because she couldn't. Because Falcon was right: The Blood Valentine Tragedy was utterly indefensible... And also because Falcon himself was from that colony.

_No,_ _Falcon,_ she thought sadly._ I _can't_ justify Junius Seven. _Despite her outrage at Falcon having joined ZAFT, deep down, Sophia had her doubts._ Can we really claim to have the moral high ground after something like that? _Can_ we?_

Sophia didn't have the answer to that question. And she wouldn't until four months later...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Crew Quarters

* * *

"I wonder where the ship is headed," Kuzzey said, sighing. "Be nice if they'd tell us something." 

"The ZAFT forces are still out there," Sai pointed out. "I doubt they'll just let us go without a fight; not after all they've already done."

"They're intent on gettin' their hands on this ship, and those mobile suits," Tolle said pensively. "They wanted to do that even before Falcon turned up; and now that _he's_ here, I bet they're really mad."

Flay's eyes widened. "What? You mean we're in even greater danger than we would be on that lifeboat? Please tell me it's not true!"

"Would you rather be stuck on that damaged lifeboat?" Mir asked pointedly. "Besides, we've got a fighting chance. We all saw what the Strike can do, and Falcon's a ZAFT ace..."

The red-head turned to her. "But can we trust him?"

"We've all been asking ourselves that," Tolle informed her. "But you know... he shot down two GINNs out there today. He may not be happy with the Earth Forces, but you can bet he's not going back to ZAFT, either. He can't."

"And," his girlfriend added, "he's a good person. All along, I've felt he can be trusted; and everything he's done today has supported that."

"Hmm..."

"Would Kira Yamato be here, by any chance?"

The heretofore silent Kira looked up as Mu spoke. "Lieutenant?"

"Mr. Murdoch's got a little problem," the pilot informed him. "We don't have enough people to maintain both mobile suits and the Zero... so you'll have to take care of your machine."

Kira blanched. "_My_ machine? Wait a minute! Since when is the Strike _my_ machine?"

Mu smiled slightly. "Let's just say that's how things worked out. After all, we only have three pilots; and I thought you said you'd protect this ship?"

"That was for the battle in Heliopolis!" the Coordinator protested. "I never said anything about-"

"Maybe not, but the situation hasn't really changed, has it?" The Hawk sighed. "Kira, you have the power to make a difference, don't you? So why not put it to good use?" He paused, tilting his head. "And think about this: Falcon's arguments make as much sense now as they did a few hours ago."

With that, Mu left; and Kira was left with his own thoughts. "But..."

Shaking his head, he suddenly ran off. "Kira, wait!" Mir called after him.

Flay glanced around. "Hey, wait a second! So, _Kira_ was the one piloting that mobile suit? But... why? Is he like Falcon...?"

"No," Mir said emphatically. "He _is_ a Coordinator," she admitted, "but he was never with ZAFT to begin with. He's one of us, a cherished friend."

"Oh..."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

Kira Yamato stood on the walkway before the Strike, Birdie on his shoulder, his thoughts in turmoil. _I know how to pilot it... but that doesn't mean I can use it in battle... Why _me? he demanded of the world in general. 

"Tough choice, isn't it?"

He spun around, to find Falcon floating in the air behind him with the ease of one long at home in space. "Falcon?"

The one-eyed pilot nodded at the Strike. "You know how to use it, but you doubt your combat skills... and you don't know if you want to use them if you have them. That's how it is, right?"

"Yeah," Kira admitted. "I know I flew it before, but... I'm not a soldier, and I don't _want_ to be one. I hate war, Falcon."

"So does any sane soldier," Falcon pointed out. "Me included."

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "So why'd you join ZAFT?"

The ace thought back. "It was the summer of 68," he recalled. "Not long after the Mandelbrot Incident, and ZAFT was first reorganized into a kind of militia."

Kira was familiar with the incident, of course: when space forces from the sponsor nations attacked a convoy carrying, among other things, food supplies for the PLANTs; a convoy including the _Mandelbrot_ herself, the ship after which the incident was named.

"I was young, idealistic, and maybe just a little stupid," Falcon went on. "Sophia had left years before to join the Atlantic Federation military -though I didn't know that till today- so my only remaining loyalty was to the PLANTs. So I signed up, wound up as a mobile suit pilot, and saw combat during the attempted blockade in 69." His voice hardened. "And I was there, at Junius Seven, and... Endymion."

"So you fought for your homeland," Kira said, nodding. "But what does that have to do with me, and why _I_ should be fighting?"

"It has _everything_ to do with it, Kira." Falcon looked him in the eye. "You said I 'fought' for my homeland. Truth is, I still am. What I'm telling you is this: to protect the PLANTs I had to do something I didn't want to do. To protect that which _you_ wish to protect, you may have to do something you don't want to."

"I know..." He sighed. "But there's something else..."

"Ah, of course." The pilot nodded. "You don't want to fight Athrun Zala."

Kira jerked violently. _"How did you know that?"_

If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn Falcon was suppressing a chuckle. "How did you think I knew who you were, when I first came to Heliopolis? Kira, when I was on medical leave following Endymion -never mind _what_ the injuries were- I taught a couple of classes at the ZAFT academy. While there, I met Athrun, and he mentioned you." The blue gaze sharpened. "And _that,_ Kira, brings me to the other reason you're needed to fight: you don't want to fight the Aegis' pilot... and I don't want to fight another of Rau's men."

Kira blinked. "Huh? Why not?"

Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "The day before I deserted, a fellow by the name of Dearka Elsman was transferred to the Le Creuset team." He met Kira's eyes. "I have a strong suspicion he flies one of the stolen G-weapons... and Dearka happens to be my best friend."

The younger Coordinator nodded in sudden comprehension. _No wonder he's so cold,_ he thought. _I may have to fight Athrun, but Falcon has to fight his entire military... and _his_ best friend. I can't imagine what that must be like..._

Kira looked up. "So you're saying we need each other," he said. "I may have to fight your friend, and you... might have to fight mine..."

Falcon read the look in Kira's eyes. "I know, Kira. You don't want Athrun hurt, even if you don't have to do it yourself. Well, you can relax; I have no intention of shooting to kill if I can possibly avoid it. Except, of course, with Rau, and possibly Yzak Joule, if he's still with the team."

Kira sighed, relieved. "I see. But..." He hesitated. "What if... what if I...?"

"What if you have to kill Dearka?" The ace shrugged. "I don't think that'll happen in this battle, if it occurs. We'll be up against _four_ G-weapons, so I daresay we'll have our hands full just trying to hold them off."

"I guess you're probably right." Amethyst eyes turned to the Strike, while the mind behind them thought furiously.

Falcon simply waited patiently. As a longtime student of the martial arts, patience was something he had in abundance... and he had his own thinking to do.

_Dearka... you'll be out there, won't you? Will you be the first to try to execute me, amigo? I expect you to do your duty, as I would in your place... but I hope you'll at least hear me out first. We have much to discuss, you and I; and with my usual channels cut, I need information about the situation in the PLANTs. I need to know how much I need do with the Earth Forces... and I need to know if _it_ has been completed._

At last, Kira turned to face his fellow pilot again. "Okay," he said wearily. "I'll do it. We're the only ones who can protect this ship... and if you're willing to fight your own comrades, can I really do less?"

Falcon clapped him on the shoulder. "Kira, you have every right to sit this out; but it sounds like you're one of those guys who couldn't look themselves in the mirror if they had a chance to make a difference, and didn't." His cool voice took on a subtle, peculiar edge. "One piece of advice: don't think of this as fighting your own people. No matter what anyone else may say, those in the PLANTs are not 'your' people simply because they're Coordinators; what your genes look like is irrelevant. 'Your people' are those like Tolle, Mir, and the others: your _friends._ Remember that."

"I'll try," Kira promised. He tilted his head. "By the way, Falcon... why _did_ you desert?"

The single eye closed. "Let's just say that there are those in the PLANTs who desire more than simple independence... and I played a critical role in one of the projects meant to make their goals happen." His hand unconsciously stroked the hilt of his wakizashi. "With my absence, the plan will be having difficulties, but it is not enough; and so I strive for a balance, a stalemate. A way to bring the war to an end in a manner that grants independence to the PLANTs, but without the victory being so overwhelming that... Well, it doesn't really matter now." Falcon shook himself. "Well, I'd better get to the Bridge; I have the distinct feeling things are about to go wrong."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"I don't like this..." Mu murmured. "It's too easy." 

They'd been running silent for over two hours now, on course to Artemis, but something didn't feel right to the Hawk of Endymion. Something was about to happen... and he had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be good.

"It is that," Falcon agreed, having arrived back on the Bridge. "Of course, it could simply be because of the sheer ludicrousness of Artemis."

Natarle glanced up in CIC. "What do you mean, Commander?"

"The Umbrella Shield," he replied. "The light-wave barrier. Certainly it's nice to have an impenetrable defense... but recall Sun Tzu's words: 'To unfailingly take what you attack, attack where there is no defense. For unfailingly secure defense, defend where there is no attack.'"

Murrue nodded. "In other words, Artemis is defending where there is no attack. After all, who cares about a military satellite at L3, of all places?"

"Exactly." Falcon shook his head. "We considered attacking Artemis, just after Endymion, but in the end we decided against it. Why bother?"

"Heat source detected!" Pal interrupted. "From nine o'clock!"

The pilot was at his side in an instant, examining the readings. _"Nazca_-class," he reported. "That'll be _Vesalius,_ for sure."

Murrue closed her eyes. "They saw through our deception; but where's their _Laurasia?"_

"They probably split up, to cover us and the decoy," Mu mused. "They couldn't take the risk of letting us slip past."

Falcon frowned. "That sounds logical... but it's not right, I can feel it. Which means... not good." He straightened. "'So if you know the place and time of battle, you can join the fight from a thousand miles away.'"

The Hawk hissed. "It's a trap!"

"Yes." His former nemesis punched buttons on Pal's console. "Got it. The _Laurasia_-class -looks to be the _Gamow_- is directly astern of us." His face tightened imperceptibly. "I knew Rau wouldn't be fooled, but I thought we'd have a little more time. Well, no help for it." He looked over at Mu. "Time to start planning how we're going to get out of this one alive, Mu."

"Right." Mu cocked his head. "The Strike?"

"We have a pilot," Falcon informed him. "Kira has agreed to keep flying it."

A relieved sigh. "Good. That takes care of one problem." The Hawk glanced at Natarle. "Bring me a map of this area, will you? And Falcon: I need to know _exactly_ what a _Nazca_'s performance is."

"Right." Out came the ubiquitous pocket computer, and Falcon started tapping keys.

Sophia looked at it curiously. "Just how much data is _in_ that thing, Falcon?"

"Plenty."

After several minutes of discussion, the rudiments of a plan had been hammered out.

* * *

_Archangel, _Cafeteria

* * *

The other four students from Heliopolis were sitting at a table when the pace began to pick up again. "Man..." Tolle sighed. "To think I thought this was going to be a normal day when I got up this morning. I never _dreamed_ anything like _this_ would happen." 

"I know," Mir agreed. "It's... it's like this is all a dream."

"Yeah." Sai idly cleaned his glasses. "I keep expecting to wake up and find this was all a dream. But I won't, will I?"

"Doesn't look like it," Kuzzey said gloomily. "Earth Forces mobile suits, ZAFT mobile suits, a new warship, a ZAFT deserter... I just can't keep up with all that's happening."

"And now it looks like the ship's about to be in a battle again," Mir whispered. "What's going to happen to us now?"

_"All hands to Level One Battlestations! All hands to Level One Battlestations!"_ The voice on the intercom paused._ "Kira Yamato to the Bridge! Kira Yamato to the Bridge!"_

"Yep, looks like another battle," Tolle said sardonically. "But... you think Kira's really going out there?"

"I hate to say it, but I hope so." Sai sighed. "Without him out there, our chances wouldn't look very good."

"But Falcon could handle it!" Kuzzey insisted. "He's a Coordinator too, and a ZAFT ace! Why does Kira need to fight?"

Mir looked at him reprovingly. "Kuzzey, Falcon isn't some kind of super-soldier; he may be a Coordinator, but he's still human. Besides, have you forgotten that he's going to have to fight his own comrades out there? It can't be easy for him."

"Right," Tolle agreed. He looked at his classmates. "You know... maybe we should do _our_ part. We were at a technical college; we know how things work. Maybe it's time we gave them some support, you know?"

There was no argument.

* * *

_Gamow, _Hanger

* * *

Dearka Elsman settled into the cockpit of the GAT-X103 Buster with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was looking forward to trying out his new machine in battle, and attacking the 'legged ship'; but on the other, he was quite likely about to face his best friend on the field of battle. And he still didn't understand. 

_Why, Falcon?_ he asked himself._ How could you betray us? You always said that everything you did was for the safety of the PLANTs, that _nothing_ was more important to you! So why fight us?_

Well, at least he wouldn't have to shoot to kill, at least not right away. Commander Le Creuset's instructions had been quite explicit.

"Remember, this is the Grimaldi Falcon we're talking about," he'd said in the final briefing. "It's quite likely he set up the ruse we just penetrated, which he means he hasn't lost his touch. That makes him a dangerous adversary; but he is also one of ZAFT's heroes. I don't think the Supreme Council would appreciate it if we simply shot him down without even talking to him. Is that understood?"

All of the team's G-pilots had agreed; but none of them had been particularly sanguine about the idea. Athrun looked distracted -though Dearka couldn't fathom why- Nicol had looked uncomfortable and just a touch scared, which made sense; like Athrun, he'd received some instruction from Commander DiFalco, and gotten thoroughly trounced in the simulators.

Yzak, now... Dearka suspected the white-haired pilot wouldn't hesitate to open fire on Falcon, orders or not. Fortunately for Dearka's peace of mind, though, Yzak wasn't in the Grimaldi Falcon's league.

He jumped when a voice came over his radio, from the _Vesalius._ _"Remember, Dearka, you're not to fire on the Raptor until I give authorization; but if I do, I expect you to follow orders."_

Dearka swallowed. "Yes, sir. Understood."

Le Creuset hadn't really needed to remind him. One thing he knew very well about Falcon was that even friendship was subordinated to his mission; he'd proved that the day Victor Tempest died.

Dearka forced himself to relax. _Almost time to launch; can't get distracted now._

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

Three pilots floated into the hanger, two of them in Earth Forces flightsuits, the third in a gray ZAFT suit (freshly cleansed of bloodstains). 

They drifted over to the Moebius Zero, and Mu La Flaga clapped a hand on Kira Yamato's shoulder. "Remember the plan, kid. And this, too: think only about defending this ship and yourself. Got it?"

The younger pilot nodded. "I'll try." _But it won't be easy..._

Kira pushed off for the Strike, while Falcon pulled on his custom helmet. "So," he murmured. "The Falcon of Grimaldi and the Hawk of Endymion flying the same space again; but this time, the Gray Feather and the White Feather fight side by side."

"Birds of a feather, you might say," Mu agreed. "You sure you and Kira can handle those G-weapons by yourselves?"

"No," Falcon said calmly. "I'm never sure until I've done it; no plan survives contact with the enemy, after all. But I think we have a good chance."

"And you think this plan will actually fool Le Creuset?"

He shrugged. "Stands a better chance than the last one did." He lowered his visor. "Well, Mu, we'd better get going."

The Hawk nodded. "Right. Good hunting, Falcon."

"Same to you."

Falcon pushed off for his own machine, contemplating the plan. His own actions were to be at his own discretion, since he was their only veteran mobile suit pilot (Sophia had volunteered to act as gunner, but her brother had coolly pointed out she couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with shipboard weaponry, let alone that of a mobile suit). He rather thought, though, that no one on the ship, besides Kira, realized just what he planned to do.

He'd shoot if he had to... but if it could be avoided, he'd use other tactics, at least against the pilot he felt sure would be out there.

The one-eyed pilot strapped into the pilot's seat, activated main power, and plugged the cable from his suit into the machine's generator. After what had happened earlier, he wasn't taking chances.

Within a few minutes, after the Zero launched -a launch hidden by the blast from one of the ship's positron cannons- the X107 Raptor was loaded into the _Archangel_'s port catapult. _"Connected to catapult,"_ a familiar voice said.

Falcon raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Miriallia? What are you doing up there?"

She smiled out of the screen at him. _"Hey, you and Kira are already going through a lot; we figured you guys could use some help, y'know?"_

He nodded, with the faintest trace of a smile. "The gesture is appreciated." He tapped a few keys on his instrument panel. "Now, shall we get down to business?"

"Right. Attaching Sword Striker module."

The Raptor, being essentially an up-rated version of the Strike, with a few new bells and whistles, was quite capable of using most Striker pack weaponry (except for the Aile package, but that was because one was already hardwired to the machine), including the mighty Agni hyper-impulse cannon. In this case, however, Falcon had opted to use only the Sword Striker's Midas Messer beam boomerang.

_Of course,_ Falcon thought idly,_ one thing they don't seem to realize -and Sophia seems to have forgotten- is that I also happen to be an engineer. If they did, they might be a little more circumspect in what they let me see... not that I intend to betray them._

But he _was_ making careful note of the new mobile suit technologies he'd come across here... and begun brainstorming about their possibilities.

His musing was soon interrupted. _"All systems green, Falcon. You're cleared to launch."_

"Roger that." His hands tensed on the control grips, and his foot rested on the vernier control. "Grimaldi Falcon, launching."

* * *

Author's note: Heliopolis is gone, and soon Falcon will have to face his best friend… in battle. 

Ominae, I'm not quite sure what you'd be thanking me for, but I'll take your word for it. As to your writing SEED stories, I will, of course, be on the lookout for it.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, thanks for reviewing. My apologies if this update wasn't quite as soon as you would have preferred, but I will attempt to get the next chapter up a little faster.

Daniel Lynx, not only has the entire Le Creuset team _heard_ of Falcon, but, as you can see, they've all met him at one time or another. Later on, those meetings will be expounded upon.

As for Olor and Matthew, as you saw earlier in the chapter, they were the two GINN pilots who accompanied Athrun and Miguel into Heliopolis. In the anime, they were killed by Mu, via the _Archangel_'s Gottfrieds; it was Olor's missiles, triggered by the destruction of the lower half of his mobile suit, that destroyed the colony's shaft and led to the collapse of Heliopolis.

The General, I may as well reply to your review of Brothers in Arms: Moments and Memories here as well.

First of all, yes, I have the Mu/Neo thing all figured out. Second, no, NukeDawg's characters will not appear in the sequel to Brothers in Arms. You may not have realized, but Gundam Seed Destiny: A New Saga is not canonical from the perspective of Brothers in Arms. It can't be; it's already diverged from my version of events, especially in regard to Kevin and Cagalli.

That leads into my next point: to start off, I said in Chapter 1 that this story wouldn't be continued into Destiny. Also, there's a small problem with the notion of crossing this over with Brothers in Arms: the two storylines feature _wildly_ different takes on the events of Gundam SEED; and I'm really not in the habit of writing AU versions of my own work, which that would require. I can't begin to imagine how the two versions could be reconciled.

Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope that clears things up.

Arekuruu-inabikari-no-She, the very next chapter will feature the first inimical encounter between Falcon and Dearka; as well as an illuminating conversation.

As for Falcon and Sophia, well… let's just say that Falcon's _actual_ blood relation on the _Archangel_ will be revealed soon enough.

Centurious, I'm glad you liked The Will to Power; though as it happens, I wasn't quite satisfied with it myself. However, the sequel is still on track; and, in fact, I should have the first chapter up in a week or so.

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, good to hear. I'm probably starting to sound like a broken record, but the next chapter _is_ in the works; it's just going a little slow, so I'm glad you like this.

Char's Counterattack… I've heard of it, but I'm not really a fan of the UC universe, and from what I know of it, it doesn't exactly have a happy ending.

RVD, I will say this: if you note the dates and ages, you will see that Falcon is a year too old to be an Ultimate Coordinator. A fact which, naturally, leads in other directions…

Ninofchaos, thanks for reviewing. I trust later chapters will not disappoint.

Infinite Freedom, the Raptor _is_ my idea. However, you'll notice that it's basically just an up-rated version of the Aile Strike, as opposed to something more original, like what I have planned for Falcon's later mobile suit.

I might as well respond to the points you made in reviews of Brothers in Arms. First of all, as for Kevin using French words, you'll notice -particularly in Chapters 24 and 33- that he's multilingual. Russian may be his preferred "second language", but it's hardly his only one.

About bringing Altron and Heavyarms into the sequel to Brothers in Arms… Well, I am planning to bring in one more MS from Gundam Wing, but the Heavyarms doesn't really seem to fit -I mean, its weapons would be fairly useless against Phase-shift- and I confess to not being terribly fond of the Altron. But, as I said, I will be bringing in one more machine; suitably modified, of course.

Victor227, I'm pleased you approve; and no, I don't think you should worry about my updating too fast.

NukeDawg, thanks for the offer, but I think I've got Falcon's machine about figured out (finally). It's gone through several revisions since I first came up with it, but I think I've got it down. Thanks again, though.

Guess that about covers things (at last). Let me know how it was. -Solid Shark


	4. Chapter 4: Tattered Friendships

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

Ken DiFalco wasn't the only one launching from the _Archangel,_ into that patch of space near the Eurasian Artemis Base. At the same time he was heading out from the port catapult, Kira Yamato's Strike was launching from the starboard. 

_Athrun..._ he thought._ Will you come back? Will you try again to sink the_ Archangel?

He really, really hoped not. Because if Athrun did come after the _Archangel,_ he might have no choice but to try and shoot him down.

Falcon, meanwhile, was scanning his instruments; he quickly noted four mobile suit launches, one from _Vesalius_ and three from _Gamow._ _Let's see... That's Aegis coming from _Vesalius,_ so Dearka must be coming from _Gamow...

He flipped switches, arming his beam cannons and the Death Blossom system, and angled Raptor toward the oncoming G-weapons. Three-to-one odds would have been enough to convince almost any other pilot to break off. Almost any other pilot would have considered _deliberately_ going after them an act of insanity.

The Grimaldi Falcon was not most pilots.

As he bore in on them, Falcon watched carefully, attempting to determine which of them was his friend; and, for that matter, which of them was Yzak Joule. Nicol Amalfi would probably be hesitant to attack him, but Falcon remembered his simulator runs against Yzak. _Oh yes, I remember... and I remember how your temper can be used against you._

On the other side, Dearka was having similar thoughts; except that he knew exactly which machine he was looking for. And unlike Falcon, he wasn't attempting to conceal what he was up to.

The blonde-haired pilot keyed his radio. "Yzak, Nicol, you guys keep going, okay? Let me handle Raptor for now; if anybody can talk some sense into him, it's me."

"Roger that," Nicol agreed readily, and altered course in his X207 Blitz.

"All right," Yzak said reluctantly. "But if he gets out of hand, or if I see you hesitating too much, Dearka, I'm going after him."

"Whatever you say," Dearka said softly.

Ahead of them, the Strike and the Aegis began to register on each other's displays. "The Strike," Athrun whispered. "Kira..."

Kira paled, seeing the red machine on his main display. "That red mobile suit... Athrun!"

The two sides rushed toward each other, each group intent on victory... and answers.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Here they come," Sophia murmured. "I hope this works..." 

"As long as Lieutenant La Flaga can keep up his end, it should," Murrue told her. "And remember, Sophia: he's famous for making the impossible possible."

"So's Falcon, or so I hear," her friend muttered, emerald eyes flashing. "I hope it's true; but I still can't believe he joined ZAFT."

"I don't think complaining about it will change anything, Lieutenant," Natarle commented. "And I should point out such idle chatter can be very distracting in the middle of a battle."

"Yeah, I know..." Sophia said sullenly; she hadn't been in a very good mood since that morning, at Heliopolis. "I _have _been in a battle before, you know. Matter of fact, my brother nearly killed me at Jachin."

"Raptor's approaching the enemy machines!" Tonomura called. "Interpenetrating ZAFT formation now!"

"Time to see if the man can live up to the legend," Natarle mused. "If not, we may be in trouble."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

"Nicol, you take the legged ship!" Yzak snapped. "I'll go back up Athrun. Dearka, you try to talk some sense into your buddy!" 

"Roger that," Dearka said quietly. _Now to hope we can manage a private conversation without somebody getting shot in the middle of it._

Falcon had by then just about determined who was flying what. The X102 Duel charging recklessly ahead, which indicated Yzak Joule was the pilot, and the Blitz was moving along cautiously, but with a degree of confidence. Buster, on the other hand... Buster was clearly hesitating.

Okay, then. It's time.

Falcon carefully adjusted his radio settings, cutting the _Archangel_ completely out of the circuit, and switched to a ZAFT frequency he knew the Buster would likely be using; then he keyed his mike. "Hello, Dearka," he said calmly. "Long time no see, amigo."

Dearka's face tightened, hearing that voice for the first time in months. "Hello, Falcon." He aimed his gun launcher and beam rifle at the Raptor, but didn't arm either. "I wish I could say I was happy to see you."

"Same here, amigo." Raptor held a beam saber in its right hand, but like Buster's guns, the weapon was deactivated. "I imagine you've got a few questions for me."

"A _few?"_ Dearka barked a harsh laugh. "I guess you could say that, Falcon. Starting with why you betrayed us!"

Falcon winced. "You don't understand, Dearka..."

"What I understand is that you disappeared four months ago, and then you turned up on Heliopolis, where you killed your own comrades!" The confusion that filled the ZAFT pilot was coming out in a rush of anger. "What I _don't_ understand is how you could have done it in the first place!"

"Hear me out, Dearka!" Falcon snapped, in a voice he would never have let the _Archangel_'s crew hear. "There's a lot more to this story than you know; more than anybody knows!" He paused. "But first I have to ask you one question, amigo," he said, very softly.

Dearka's diatribe paused. "What?"

The words came almost in a whisper. "Have they completed GENESIS?"

Now he was _really_ confused. "'Genesis'? Just what are you talking about, Falcon?"

Falcon sighed in relief. "Good... If you've never heard of it, it probably hasn't been completed; which means they still haven't cracked the N-jammer canceller problem."

Dearka shook his head. "Just what in the world are you _talking_ about, Falcon?"

"You don't need to know, amigo," his friend said softly.

Meanwhile, the Strike and the Aegis had come face-to-face, and Athrun keyed his radio. "Is that you, Kira?"

Kira flinched. "Athrun..."

"What are you doing here?" the ZAFT pilot demanded. "How could you join the Earth Forces? Why are you with the Naturals? _Tell me!"_

The Strike's pilot felt like wilting under his old friend's questioning. _Athrun, I..._ Then he rallied, remembering Falcon's words to him. "I'm doing what I have to do, Athrun! And I'm not _with_ the Earth Forces!"

Athrun paused. "What?"

"I'm fighting to protect my friends, Athrun!" Kira's hands tightened on the controls. "And wasn't it ZAFT that started this? _You_ attacked Heliopolis!"

"That's because the Naturals turned it into a target," the blue-haired pilot whispered harshly. _"They_ built those weapons there; _they_ violated their neutrality."

Elsewhere, Raptor and Buster circled each other. "Have you forgotten your own words, Falcon?" Dearka demanded. "What about Lesson Eight? 'Keep the faith'?"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm doing," Falcon replied. "Remember Lesson Twenty-Five? 'Once you have set yourself a task, do not abandon it. Even when continuing requires an action that makes your comrades call you traitor, persevere; for sometimes, the cost of failure can have consequences far beyond your worst nightmares.'"

"What 'task'?" Dearka demanded. "What 'consequences'? You're not making any sense!"

"That's because there are darker secrets in ZAFT than you know." The Falcon sighed helplessly. "Dearka, someday maybe you'll understand Lesson Twenty-Seven: Sometimes the right thing to do is not the right thing to do."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Well, this battle is certainly... perplexing," Sophia commented to the air. 

"I'll agree with you there," Murrue murmured. "Just what is going on out there, anyway?"

In the few minutes since the two mobile suit forces had merged, virtually nothing had happened, as far as the _Archangel_ could tell. Aegis and Strike were circling, as were Raptor and Buster, while Duel darted off to aid Aegis and Blitz alone went after the ship.

"Scrambled transmissions between Buster and Raptor," Kuzzey reported, from Communications. "I can't tell what they are, though."

Natarle frowned. "What could that be about? Unless Commander DiFalco _isn't_ trustworthy after all..."

"There's another possibility," Sophia said quietly. "Remember: Falcon was a top ZAFT ace. I'll bet there are quite a few people still in ZAFT that he knows, and some might even be willing to give him information; especially if he were to run into a former teammate. Or, more likely, the Buster's pilot isn't willing to shoot just yet, and they're arguing."

"But why scramble the transmissions?" Sai wondered.

"Mr. Argyle," Natarle said dryly, "if _you_ were a ZAFT pilot trying to convince an 'enemy' pilot to join you, would _you_ want said enemy's mothership listening in?"

"Oh. Right."

Sophia scratched her head. "But that still doesn't explain why _Falcon_ isn't firing."

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"We've confirmed the number of enemy units," a crewman reported. "Enemy force consists of two mobile suits." 

"And no mobile armor." Le Creuset nodded to himself. "The Hawk of Endymion's Zero must not be ready for sortie yet." He smiled. "I suppose my destroying his wired gunbarrels and causing the Grimaldi Falcon to finish off his linear cannon gave them some major problems."

"It's safe to make that assumption," Ades agreed. "Of course, we still haven't managed to _hit_ the legged ship yet, either."

The commander shrugged. "Hardly unexpected, Captain. Athrun has a... personal matter to deal with, and we all know why Dearka has not yet opened fire." He steepled his fingers. "But if something doesn't happen soon, I'll have no choice but to order them to engage the Raptor. Dearka can disable it if he wishes, but we cannot afford to have it remain a part of the tactical equation."

"Understood."

_But I wonder..._ Le Creuset thought._ Just where _are_ you, Mu? Are you, perhaps, in the gunner's seat of that machine? Or are you up to something?_

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

"You're nothing but a pawn, Dearka," Falcon said, clenching his hands on his controls. "Don't you understand that Zala wants more than mere victory?" 

"How can you have 'more than victory'?" Dearka demanded. "The mission is the same as it was when you left: defeat the Naturals, and secure independence for the PLANTs!"

"No, amigo, that's _not_ the objective." Falcon's eye blazed. "The mission was originally to secure independence for the PLANTs by defeating the sponsor nations; _not_ the Naturals. You're generalizing, and not all Naturals are like my sister." He hissed. "But now, ZAFT's mission has become genocide, and _that_ is something I will not support!"

Not far away, Athrun and Kira were still arguing. "I don't _care_ who violated the neutrality," Kira shouted. "Heliopolis _was_ neutral, and so am I!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You used to tell me you hated the whole idea of war, so why did you join ZAFT?"

"Because we're fighting for our lives," Athrun replied. "Earth started this, not us!"

A bright green beam suddenly flashed by, narrowly missing the Strike. "You aren't fighting, Athrun!" Yzak called. "Why not?"

Athrun blinked. "Y-Yzak?"

Kira paled, seeing his displays. "The Duel? Oh, no..."

The true battle had finally begun.

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

Le Creuset sighed, seeing the impasse between Dearka and the Grimaldi Falcon. "We've no choice," he said regretfully to Ades. "Captain, order our pilots to begin offensive operations against the X107 Raptor." _It appears Falcon is committed to this course; pity._

"Yes, sir," the captain acknowledged. After passing on the orders, he added, "Should we request assistance from _Nacht Jaeger,_ Commander?"

The masked man considered that, and finally shook his head. "No, Captain; at least not yet. I believe Commander Huckebein is currently engaged in search and rescue operations at Heliopolis; important though it may be to stop the legged ship, we also can't afford to lose any more face by refusing to search for survivors in the rubble."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

Dearka received the new orders, and winced. _It shouldn't have come to this... How _could_ it have?_

"You still there, amigo?" Falcon said softly.

The ZAFT pilot swallowed. "Falcon, there's no more time for chatting. I have my orders; and you have two choices: surrender, or be shot down."

Falcon, not realizing that by "shot down", his friend meant disabled and captured, simply shook his head. "Sorry, Dearka. But I can't do that."

"Then you know what I have to do."

Unexpectedly, the one-eyed pilot grinned ferally. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't, amigo. Do your best!"

But it wasn't Dearka that fired the first shot. Instead, Nicol's Blitz lined up for a shot with its beam rifle... and something happened in Falcon's head. His formidable spatial awareness told him something was about to happen; his Death Blossoms deployed, while he began to spin, beam saber igniting...

And the energy blade batted the beam aside.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Sophia stared at her displays in disbelief. "That's not possible!" 

Murrue sat there in matching shock. Raptor's beam saber had just _deflected_ a beam rifle shot... this while Falcon was still manipulating the Death Blossom system, using it to keep Buster under guard. "How did he...?"

Natarle blinked rapidly, as if it would make the impossible sight disappear. "No pilot is _that_ good..."

He obviously wasn't done doing the impossible. Even as he swatted another beam from the Blitz, the Buster finally got ready to attack... just in time for a series of Death Blossom shots to keep him busy.

Now Raptor and Blitz engaged each other with beam sabers, and Sophia shook her head in bemusement. _I had no idea even Der Schreckick Eins was capable of this... How is he _doing_ that?_

"What's the Strike's status?" Murrue asked, satisfied that, through whatever means, Falcon could take care of himself for the moment.

"Not good, Ma'am," Natarle reported after a moment. "He's got the Aegis and Duel after him right now, though the Aegis doesn't seem to be attacking. The Duel seems to be making up for any deficiencies in Aegis' offense, though."

"Can we give him support?"

She shook her head. "No, Ma'am, not in that melee."

Murrue closed her eyes. "What about Lieutenant La Flaga?"

"Assuming all goes according to plan, he should be approaching _Vesalius_ now."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace, near _Vesalius_

* * *

"Now I've got you," Mu whispered. "Try this on for size, Le Creuset!" 

On _Vesalius_' Bridge, Le Creuset jerked upright, noting the familiar sensation. "Maximum thrust! Lower bow, pitch angle sixty!"

Ades glanced at his commander, not understanding for a few crucial seconds, until a crewman piped up. "Enemy below! It's a mobile armor!"

"Maximum thrust!" Ades barked. "Activate CIWS! Lower bow pitch angle sixty!"

_Too late,_ Le Creuset thought.

And it was. Grinning savagely, Mu increased power to his Zero's engines, slashing across space to the _Vesalius'_ underbelly at his own maximum thrust. The wired gunbarrels deployed, and they opened fire, together with his ventral-mounted linear cannon. _"Take this!"_

Damage alarms blared throughout the _Nazca_, and reports rang out, cataloguing the ship's wounds. "Damage to ventral hull! Main cannon output down fifty percent!"

Le Creuset snarled silently. _You'll die for this, Mu._

Mu La Flaga's Moebius Zero triumphantly pulled around and away, leaving his nemesis to lick his wounds.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Lieutenant La Flaga reports successful attack!" Tonomura called, unable to keep the triumph out of his voice. "He's now returning." 

Murrue smiled. "Then let's get them. Warn Lieutenant La Flaga to stay out of our line of fire... and arm the Lohengrin."

Natarle nodded, as pleased as anyone by their success. "Yes, Ma'am! Mr. Pal, charge assault cannons."

"Affirmative." Pal typed commands, and waited a few moments. "Positron banks charged, Ma'am. Ready to fire on your command."

"Lieutenant La Flaga has cleared the line of fire," Tonomura reported.

Murrue nodded. "Fire!"

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"Heat source detected! Antimatter stream, direction 000; impact in three seconds!" 

Le Creuset lunged out of his chair. "Hard to starboard! Evade it!"

The _Vesalius'_ evasion attempt was partly successful; one positron blast missed completely, while the other managed only a grazing hit. But a graze from an antimatter stream was still _not_ something you wanted to have happen to your ship.

"Damage to number three sodium wall; reactor output down, engine thrust down fifty percent."

Ades turned his superior. "Orders, Commander?"

Le Creuset cursed to himself. "Send out orders to retreat," he said through gritted teeth. "We've lost this round, Captain. Order our mobile suits to return at once."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

Kira, unaware of Mu's success, was still dodging around, trying to avoid the Duel's fire. The only good news was that Athrun still wasn't attacking, and Buster and Blitz both still seemed focused on Falcon, who was _well_ able to take care of himself. 

_Not that it helps _me_ any,_ he thought._ This is ridiculous!_

He tried firing at the enemy machine, but he was still too inexperienced, and hadn't gotten in any clean hits. Now he was beginning to run low on energy, which was very _bad_ news. After all, with no energy, he had no Phase-shift.

Yzak, meanwhile, was having fun... until he saw a text message on his display. VESALIUS ATTACKED, it read. RETURN TO SHIP IMMEDIATELY.

"The _Vesalius_ was hit? They're ordering us to _retreat?"_ Now he was angry. "But we can still win this!"

And so, predictably, he defied orders.

Dearka, on the other hand, received the new orders with something approaching delight. "Sorry, Falcon," he radioed, not sounding very sorry. "We'll have to finish this another day." Buster wheeled around, heading back for the _Gamow._ "I hope we don't meet again for awhile, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, amigo," Falcon whispered. "I know what you mean." If they didn't meet, Dearka wouldn't be able to carry out his orders... orders they both knew he _would_ carry out if he could, because neither of them could have it any other way. Dearka had his duty, and Falcon would be very disappointed in him if he didn't do it.

Blitz likewise broke off, but Yzak wasn't so ready to stop his attack on the Strike. "Stop it, Yzak!" Athrun said sharply. "We've been ordered to retreat!"

"Shut your mouth, you coward!" _You might not have the guts to fight, but _I_ do,_ Yzak thought, mentally sneering at his teammate.

Kira was getting more than a little frantic now... especially when his rifle sputtered. "Oh, no!" It sputtered once more, and then died... along with his Phase-shift armor.

Yzak couldn't have been more delighted. "Now I've got you!" He drew both of Duel's beam sabers, and charged right at the Strike... and so did the Aegis.

Athrun, eyes wide with fear for his friend, converted the Aegis to mobile armor mode and rushed forward, trying to beat the Duel to its prize.

Falcon looked up sharply when his radio link to the Strike transmitted the telltale vibration sounds. "That's not good," the one-eyed pilot murmured.

Aegis' claws had grasped the Strike.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"The Strike has been taken!" Tonomura called out. "Phase-shift, down!" 

Murrue closed her eyes. _No... just on the brink of victory..._ "Now what do we do?" she whispered.

"We've got another message from the Lieutenant," Mir reported. "He says..." She frowned. "He says to load the Launcher Striker pack into the catapult."

Sophia's head jerked up. "Of course! Get a replacement energy battery out to the Strike, along with some heavier firepower... It just might work!"

"Do it," Murrue ordered.

"Wait."

She looked at the screen on her right armrest. "Falcon?"

_"One request,"_ the pilot said calmly._ "Send me a Schwerht Gewerh, will you?"_

Murrue had no idea what he had in mind, but he _was_ the expert; he presumably knew what he was doing. "Very well. Ensign Badgiruel, have Mr. Murdoch load the Launcher Striker into the starboard catapult, and a Schwerht Gewerh antiship blade into the port."

Natarle shrugged. "Yes, Ma'am." _I don't know if this crazy plan will work, but we don't have any other option, do we?_

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

The two G-pilots who had actually obeyed orders were now arrayed around the Aegis and Strike, along with the Duel; and _none_ of them were happy. 

"What are you doing, Athrun?" Yzak demanded.

"We were told to destroy it!" Dearka added, obscurely pleased to have a legitimate target for his frustration. "You're disobeying orders!"

"If we can capture it, we're better off!" Athrun retorted. "I think the Commander would agree with me!"

"Athrun!"

Kira listened to the radio traffic with increasing confusion. "Just what are you up to, Athrun?" he asked, searching for some way out of the situation at the same time.

"I'm taking you to the _Gamow,"_ his old friend replied. "If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up till we get there."

"Get real!" Kira retorted. "I'm _not_ going on any ZAFT ship!"

"You don't have a choice," Athrun replied. "Unless... unless you _want_ me to shoot you."

The Strike pilot froze. _Athrun... It sounds like he means it... How did it come to this? How _could_ it? Why are you _doing_ this, Athrun?_

As if hearing his thoughts, Athrun said softly, "I already lost my mom in the Bloody Valentine. So I-"

A hurricane of projectiles and beams flashed past, as both Raptor and the Zero dove in on them, both firing their wired gunbarrels. "Mind if we join the party?" Falcon said quietly, directing his fire against the Duel.

"Falcon? Lieutenant?" Kira couldn't believe it... not that he was complaining.

"Get clear, kid!" Mu shouted, pummeling Aegis while Duel sheltered behind its shield; under the pounding, Athrun soon had to release his grip. "The ship's sending out the Launcher Strike; don't miss it!"

"Right!" Without further questions, Kira turned the Strike around headed back toward the _Archangel_ at his best speed.

Mu trailed him, but Falcon played rear guard. He'd already received the Schwerht Gewerh, and now he raised it in both of Raptor's massive hands. "Sorry, Dearka," he called, "but I _really_ don't need you complicating things right now."

"Falcon, what are you-" Dearka began.

He broke off when the answer became obvious. Raptor darted the one side, and the fifteen-meter blade sliced down through both Buster's gun launcher and its beam rifle, while the Death Blossoms precisely targeted his missile launchers and blew them to slag.

"I suggest you go home now," Falcon said calmly, and rushed off to follow his comrades, leaving Dearka to stare after him in shock and sadness.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"The Strike is nearing the proper vector," Natarle reported. 

Murrue nodded. "Good. Things are finally starting to look up a bit."

That was putting it mildly; and Sophia, for one, suspected that without the teamwork displayed by their three pilots, they could never have pulled it off to begin with. _Der Schreckick Eins appears to be a success... and right now, I think I'm glad of it._

"Transfer control of the catapult to the Launcher Striker's computer," Natarle ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Mir carefully watched as Strike's signal pulled ahead of the ship, carefully altering its course... until the vectors matched. "Strike is on profile, Ma'am!"

Natarle didn't bother to issue any orders. The catapult activated automatically, spitting the replacement Striker pack out into space.

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

Unfortunately, Yzak was not so ready to give up his prey. "You're not getting away from _me,"_ he whispered. He watched as the Strike jettisoned the Aile Striker, preparing itself for the approaching Launcher, and raised his beam rifle. 

A threat warning went off in Kira's cockpit, causing him to look over his shoulder. "Locked onto me?" The Striker pack was approaching, but too slow...

Yzak smiled, and pulled the trigger, launching a grenade.

However, at that very moment Falcon's Death Blossoms opened fire, catching the Duel in the leg and throwing off his aim at a crucial instant. The grenade's blast radius could still catch the Strike, but it would have to be a proximity detonation.

"No!" Yzak snarled. He was furious at the damage to his machine... and the fact that the attack had bought Kira just enough time to join up with the Striker pack and activate Phase-shift. Since PSA was immune to weapons like grenades...

And Kira wasn't through yet. Now the tables were turned; he had a hyper-impulse cannon, and he knew how to use it. Yelling wordlessly, he reversed course and flew straight at the Duel, firing the Agni all the way.

The first shot literally melted the machine's right arm off, while the second grazed Dearka's Buster when he came in to rescue Yzak from the powerful weapon's path; then a third blasted the Blitz's Trikeros into debris.

"Time to fall back," Athrun called, as surprised as his comrades by this turn of events. "It's too dangerous to pursue them any farther."

"Agreed," Nicol said quietly. "If we stay here, _we'll_ run out of power... if that hyper-impulse cannon doesn't get us first."

Yzak snarled in pure hate. "No! _No!"_ _How could that bastard? It's all because of that traitor! Grimaldi Falcon, you will die, along with the Strike!_

The four machines withdrew, leaving a victorious, and exhausted, trio of pilots hanging in front of the _Archangel,_ their message clear: Attack again, and we will destroy you.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

Shortly after landing, Mu La Flaga popped the hatch on his Moebius Zero, climbed out, and looked in surprise at the Strike. There seemed to be some kind of commotion surrounding it. 

"What's going on?" he asked, coming close.

Murdoch shrugged. "It's the kid, sir. He won't come out; and he won't answer, either."

"Is that a fact?" Puzzled, Mu hit the external hatch controls himself, and stuck his head in. "Hey! Come out of there! Kira Yamato- Huh?"

Kira still sat in the pilot's seat, breathing heavily, hands locked in a death grip on the machine's flight controls. His eyes were wide, and he didn't seem to be seeing much of anything.

_Combat shock. Forget this was his first big battle._ Mu pulled himself into the cockpit. "Hey, it's okay," he said soothingly, trying to get through to the practically comatose pilot. "The Archangel's safe, so are you, so am I." He smiled, prying Kira's hands from the controls. "You did good, kid."

Kira's eyes snapped into focus, and he nodded wearily. "Is it... always like that?"

"First time's the worst," the Hawk informed him. "Now come on, let's get out of here."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Enemy ships breaking off," Tonomura reported, relieved. 

Murrue sighed in matching relief. "Good."

Sophia closed her eyes. "I guess building Raptor wasn't a waste of time, huh? Though it looks like Kira could have handled it all by himself if he'd had to."

"Probably," Falcon agreed, entering the Bridge; he hadn't had time to change out of his flightsuit. "So now we've got a clear path to Artemis?"

"Looks that way." His sister looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Now, Falcon, I think you've got some explaining to do."

"Why's that?" Mu asked, coming onto the Bridge himself. "I think he proved himself out there; not that he needed to."

"I'm not talking about his combat _ability,_ Lieutenant," she said sharply. "I'm talking about the fact that he spent the first few minutes exchanging scrambled transmissions with the Buster. Care to explain what _that_ was all about, Brother?"

Falcon leaned against a bulkhead, eye narrow. "For your information, sister," he said coldly, "a certain friend of mine transferred to the Le Creuset team the day before I deserted ZAFT. That friend was flying the Buster out there." His cold blue gaze met hers. "That pilot was Dearka Elsman."

Sophia drew back in surprise. "Elsman? You mean...?"

"Who else?" He stroked the hilt of his sword. "Did you expect me to try to kill my best friend, Sophia? Besides, I needed information, and I got it."

"What information?" Natarle demanded.

"None of your business." _Besides, if you knew about GENESIS, I don't know _what_ those bastards in Alliance High Command would do..._ "Let's just say it's classified, and leave it at that," he said aloud.

The ensign nodded, not entirely happy, but understanding that there were some lines the ex-ZAFT ace simply was not willing to cross. Classifications she could understand, even if it made her nervous.

"Well," Murrue said, getting back to the business at hand, "I think it's time we called Artemis and requested permission to enter. Mr. Buskirk?"

"Hailing now, Ma'am," Kuzzey replied. Fortunately, he already had a good idea of how to use communications systems, given his technical education, and the _Archangel_'s systems weren't that different from what he was used to.

"We may have a small problem," Mu mused, and glanced at Falcon. "Even if they let us in, they might not have a favorable reaction to us having the Grimaldi Falcon aboard."

Murrue nodded. "You think they'll arrest him on the spot?"

He shook his head. "No; he's already demonstrated he's no longer with ZAFT. No, I think they'll try to use him, maybe as a propaganda tool." The Hawk scratched his head. "Falcon, it might be a good idea for you to take precautions with your mobile suit."

The one-eyed pilot nodded. "Quite. Don't worry about it, Mu; I already set things up so that unauthorized access will result in an explosion."

Sophia goggled at him. "You set _my_ mobile suit to _explode_ if someone-?"

"It's called being cautious," he told her. "And you may have designed it, but I'm the guy who has to fly it, so I suggest you get over it." He rubbed his eyepatch. "I don't trust Eurasians as far as I could throw them; we should all be on our guard."

"Message from Artemis, Ma'am," Kuzzey called. "We're cleared to pass through the Umbrella; they'll be sending an inspector aboard to confirm that we are who we say we are."

The Captain nodded. "Very well. Send them our thanks."

Falcon stepped to the Bridge elevator. "If you'll excuse me, Murrue, I'll go change into my uniform and make certain Raptor is secured."

"Right." Murrue looked at Mu. "Lieutenant, I suggest you go talk to Kira, and have him take precautions with the Strike, as well. I hope we're just being paranoid... but given that this is a Eurasian base, and we're Atlantic Federation, things might not go as we plan."

"Roger that."

* * *

Artemis Base, Harbor

* * *

The promised inspector came aboard within moments of the _Archangel_ docking within the base's huge harbor. He was Lieutenant Commander Biddaulph, and something about him set off warning bells in Falcon's mind. 

"Welcome aboard, Commander," Murrue said, eyeing the man carefully. _Something doesn't seem right here..._

"Thank you, Lieutenant... assuming you are who you say you are." Biddaulph looked out the main viewport on the Bridge... and Falcon's face tightened as he saw what the man was looking at.

Armed men were surrounding the ship, and it was pretty obvious they weren't an honor guard.

"Commander?" Murrue said sharply.

"I must advise you, Lieutenant, remain silent." Biddaulph sounded almost bored.

"Explain," Falcon snapped, startled back into his 'Commander' habits. "And if your explanation isn't a good one, I may take matters into my own hands."

The Eurasian looked at him. "And just who are _you?_"

The ace gazed back coldly. "My name is Ken DiFalco, in case that means something to you. If it doesn't, then you obviously weren't anywhere near the Grimaldi Front."

Biddaulph's eyebrows rose. "The Grimaldi Falcon? I believe Admiral Garcia will be _most_ interested in speaking with _you."_

"I'm sure." Falcon noted the man didn't provide the demanded explanation, but he chose not to push it at this time. He'd already said too much; from here on, he'd gain his information in a more passive manner.

Soon, the ship was secured, and Biddaulph nodded to himself. "The officers of this ship will now accompany me to Admiral Garcia's office; along with you, Mr. DiFalco."

"That's _Commander_ DiFalco," Natarle informed him, eyes narrow. Her tendency toward military formality was offended by the commander's form of address; and _she_ didn't like what was going on, either.

"Whatever. Just come with me." Biddaulph glanced at Falcon. "And leave that sword behind; we're all too familiar with your reputation, _Commander."_

He nodded. "Very well." He removed the wakizashi, and tossed it to Mir. "Take care of that for me, will you?" Falcon glanced at Biddaulph. "You needn't confiscate it from her, Commander; I assure you she has not the least idea how to use it."

The Eurasian shrugged. "Whatever."

As the man led them out, Sophia glanced at her brother, suspicious. _That's not like him; he wouldn't just give up his weapon, not in this situation. Unless... Oh._ She nodded to herself. _Of course. Well, maybe his subterfuge will help us out here..._

* * *

Artemis, Admiral Garcia's Office

* * *

"Well," Rear Admiral Gerard Garcia said, after the _Archangel_'s officers had told their story. "It appears that you are who you say you are. I am afraid, however, that I cannot allow you to leave at this time." 

Murrue's eyes flashed. "And why is that, Sir?"

He waved a hand. "The _Laurasia_-class is still outside," he replied. "We can't lower the Umbrella while enemy forces are in the area. I'm sure you understand."

She nodded reluctantly, though she suspected there was something else going on here. "Will you at least be able to resupply us? After leaving Heliopolis in something of a hurry, we're running a little low."

The admiral nodded amiably. "Certainly, Lieutenant." He looked over at Mu. "Now, then. I must say I was surprised to find the Hawk of Endymion aboard that ship. May I ask what your mission is?"

The Hawk's eyes were narrow. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say, sir."

Another nod; he'd evidently expected the response. "Very well. That brings us to one other point... You, Commander DiFalco."

Falcon tilted his head. "Me, Admiral?" _If you're about to say what I _think_ you're about to say, though, forget it. I don't work for people like you._

"Yes, you." Garcia leaned back. "If I found Lieutenant La Flaga's presence surprising, I found yours astonishing. I would never have expected a man such as you to betray the PLANTs."

"I didn't betray the PLANTs, Admiral," he said evenly. "I turned my back on ZAFT, but not my homeland."

"Whatever. The point remains that you have chosen to join the Earth Forces... which makes you very valuable to me."

Falcon's fist clenched. "What do you want, Garcia?" he said, as coldly as ever but now without even the slightest trace of civility.

"I want you to tell me everything you can remember about ZAFT's defenses," Garcia said bluntly. "Their ships' weaknesses, their mobile suit deployments... and most of all, I need you to tell us how to get past the Boaz and Jachin Due defenses."

"Absolutely not," Falcon snapped. "I'd die before I told you that."

Garcia frowned at the pilot. "You'll find I can be most persuasive, Commander. For now, though..." He nodded to a guard. "Take them away, Private." He looked at Murrue. "This is, of course, for your own protection..."

"You're making a mistake, Admiral-" Sophia began, as the guard reached for Falcon...

... who reached into his uniform jacket, drew his standard-issue sidearm, and put a bullet in the man's brain. "I said I didn't _like_ guns," he said coldly. "I never said I didn't know how use 'em."

Before anyone could react to the entirely unexpected event, Falcon had rushed for the door and was gone.

* * *

_Gamow, _Bridge

* * *

"So, they're still hiding behind the Umbrella, huh?" Yzak stared at the situation map in disgust. "We can't get through it, and they can't get out of it." 

"A standoff," Dearka remarked, eyes shadowed. "I don't think this is Falcon's plan; he's careful, but I never knew him to settle for defense when he could attack. And with two G-weapons, a mobile armor, and the legged ship, he probably could. Especially with Artemis' resources for support."

"True enough." The white-haired pilot examined the plot. "That actually works in our favor; if they're not giving Commander DiFalco a free hand, we're better off."

"But that still leaves the problem of penetrating Artemis' light-wave barrier," Nicol pointed out. "Could we ask Commander Huckebein for help?"

"We don't need help," Yzak said dismissively. "Besides, _Nacht Jaeger_ left for the PLANTs a few hours ago. No, we can handle this ourselves... if we can just get past that barrier."

"It never goes down as long as enemy forces are in the area," Captain Zelman, _Gamow_'s commanding officer, remarked. "And since it's impenetrable to all known weapons..."

"As a matter of fact..." Nicol said slowly, "I have an idea." He tapped the display's controls, bringing up the specifications for his machine. "My mobile suit, the Blitz, is equipped with a system known as Mirage Colloid. It uses colloid gas particles to render the machine invisible to visual, infrared, and radar scanning." He looked up. "If we take the _Gamow_ out of Artemis' immediate vicinity, they'll lower the Umbrella. Once they do that, I can go in with the Blitz and take down the shield generators, thus clearing a path for you two."

"It could work," Dearka admitted. _I think it's the perfect mission for a coward... but on the other hand, what would Falcon think of it? Knowing him... he'd love it._ They hadn't always agreed on the subject of tactics, at least on a metaphysical standpoint, but he had to admit Nicol's plan was feasible.

Yzak had similar thoughts, but, like the Buster's pilot, he was also tired of waiting for the legged ship to come out. "All right, then. Nicol, get ready; make sure you take out those generators, and we'll be right behind you."

"Got it."

* * *

_Archangel, _Cafeteria

* * *

Following Falcon's violent escape from Garcia's office, security had been increased throughout Artemis and the _Archangel._ So, when Garcia went to the ship's cafeteria, he brought his aide and two guards with him... not realizing they were being followed. 

Falcon was not very happy with Garcia. First the admiral had tried to use him... then the pilot had checked _Archangel_'s hanger and discovered his mobile suit gone. And, to top it all off, the Eurasians had locked up Murrue, Mu, Natarle, and Sophia. He wasn't very fond of his sister at that particular moment, but he acknowledged the other officers, at least, were needed if they were to get the ship out of port.

So he followed at a discreet distance as the admiral went in search of the Strike pilot; he had a feeling something... untoward... was about to happen.

"I'm looking for the pilot of the X105 Strike," Garcia said as he entered the cafeteria, where most of the crew had been sequestered. "Which of you might it be?"

Kira almost stood, but Murdoch put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in his chair. "Commander DiFalco was piloting it," he lied. "Go find him."

The admiral smirked. "A nice ploy... but we already know he was piloting the X107 Raptor. To be sure, we _do_ need to find him; he killed one of my men, and he's rigged his machine to explode if we try to make use of it. But right now I'm looking for the _Strike_ pilot, whom he most certainly is not." His expression hardened. "Now answer the question!"

To punctuate his words, his guards raised their rifles, and Kira's eyes widened. _No! Urgh, I don't have a choice. If I don't admit, they'll go after the wrong person... or even kill someone._

He stood. "It was me," he announced. "I piloted the Strike in that battle."

Garcia looked at him in disgust. "An interesting lie, boy, but that machine wasn't meant for someone like you. Get serious, twerp!" He drew back his fist... just as Mir noticed Falcon's presence at the hatch.

Without thinking about what she was doing, she lifted the sword he'd entrusted into her keeping, and threw it to the pilot.

Falcon wasted no time. He caught the weapon, drew it, and thrust it through the spine of the first Eurasian guard. Then, using the corpse for leverage, he swung his legs forward, caught the second guard around the neck with his feet, and spun, slamming the man into the bulkhead and breaking his neck.

He continued his forward motion, grabbed Garcia's aide by the neck, and squeezed.

Garcia spun around. "What in the-?"

The one-eyed pilot eyed him with disgust. "It's over, Garcia. You've lost."

_His_ words were punctuated by sudden, very unexpected explosions.

* * *

Artemis Base, Exterior

* * *

Nicol's plan had gone like clockwork. The Umbrella had gone down when _Gamow_ left the general area, allowing his Blitz to get within easy reach of the base. 

Now he was firing his beam rifle at shield generators, blasting them to bits to clear the path for his fellow pilots. By now, about fifty percent of the Umbrella was inoperable; a number that increased to sixty percent when he decloaked and slashed with his beam saber.

"It's clear, guys!" Nicol called to the approaching Buster and Duel. "They can't raise most of the barrier!"

"We're on our way," Yzak answered, and glanced over at Dearka. "I guess the coward was good for something after all."

"We've never accused him of being useless, Yzak," the blonde pilot pointed out. "And being invisible can be helpful."

"Yeah, whatever. Now, let's just hope we get a shot at the Strike... and the traitor."

* * *

Artemis Base, Interior

* * *

With the commencement of hostilities, things had happened very quickly. The surviving Eurasian troops had, on their own initiative, abandoned the _Archangel,_ while the crew reasserted control... and Admiral Garcia himself was unceremoniously hauled out the nearest airlock and locked in an Artemis closet by Falcon. 

He privately estimated that Artemis would be destroyed several minutes before anyone could locate the admiral to rescue him.

In the meantime, he was headed for the room where _Archangel_'s officers were locked; Garcia had been "persuaded" to give up the information, just before being stuffed in with the mops. Falcon could probably have hacked the information out of the Artemis database, but he didn't want to take the time.

He was greeted by the sound of shouting when he got close, and he paused, watching around a corner as the room's two guards responded.

They opened the hatch... and Mu La Flaga promptly knocked them both unconscious. "Well, _that_ worked," the Hawk remarked. "But where'd Falcon get to?"

"Right here, Mu," the pilot said, stepping into view.

"Good to see you," Murrue said, relieved.

"What's going on out there?" Sophia demanded. "We kept hearing things blow up; is ZAFT attacking?"

Falcon nodded. "Looks like the Blitz; must have gotten within the perimeter under Mirage Colloid. Now he's disabled the Umbrella, and Buster and Duel are joining the party."

"The Aegis?" Natarle queried.

"I don't know, but it looks like _Vesalius _left; who knows why."

Mu glanced around. "What about Garcia?"

He could have sworn there was a faint smile on his former rival's face. "I locked him in a janitor's closet; he'll be sitting out this battle with the brooms."

The Hawk chuckled. "At least he's out of our hair; now, though, we'd better get back to the _Archangel."_

Falcon nodded. "Go. Kira's already preparing for launch in the Strike, and I believe Chief Neumann and the others secured the Bridge. I'll be with you as soon as I retrieve my mobile suit."

"Roger that. Watch yourself."

The officers took off for the _Archangel_ at a dead run, while Falcon plunged deeper into the vast Eurasian asteroid base.

* * *

Artemis, Harbor

* * *

Kira had finally launched in the Strike, with the Sword package, and now he was looking for the enemy. It wasn't as easy as it might have been; there were explosions going off all over the place, serving to disguise the ZAFT machines' positions. 

_Come on..._ he thought._ Where _are_ you?_

It was Nicol who spotted the Strike, as he was first into the harbor. "There you are. Time to see how good you really are."

"The Blitz..." Kira whispered. "Well, at least it isn't Athrun... or the Buster." He had no personal problem with facing the Buster, but he knew the machine's pilot was Falcon's friend, and Falcon himself was... _A friend,_ Kira decided. _Even if he doesn't talk much. Besides, I'd never have gotten this far without him._ He actually managed a smile, thinking of the one-eyed pilot's solution to the Garcia problem.

But now he had _other_ problems. The Blitz was coming right at him, firing its beam rifle. The Strike caught them on the Panzer Eisen (twin to the rocket anchor mounted on the Raptor), and raised its enormous Schwerht Gewerh. "What can't you just go away and let us live in peace?" Kira shouted.

Nicol reversed thrust at the sight of the weapon. He remembered quite well what had happened to Dearka's weapons when faced with that massive blade, so, rather than get in close, he fired the Blitz's lancer darts, hoping to skewer the Strike -forgetting, of course, that they would do no good against Phase-shift.

Kira wasn't taking chances. He dodged two of them completely, then sliced the last in half with his antiship blade. "Just go _away!"_

Below and behind, the _Archangel_ was beginning to move, powering up its huge engines for the breakout from the fortress. _"Kira, come back!"_ Mir's voice rang out over the radio. _"Kira, come back! The _Archangel_ is launching!"_

He hesitated, torn between defending the ship and making sure he wasn't left behind. "But-"

"Go, Kira."

It was Falcon's voice, and his Raptor came sailing out of an explosion (an explosion which, just incidentally, blew a certain broom closet to shattered fragments). His Death Blossoms were deployed, and he clearly was _not_ in the mood to waste time.

He was also well able to take care of himself, so Kira nodded. "All right. I'm returning to the ship; but you hurry up to, got it?"

"Right behind you."

"Are you running away?" Nicol demanded. He charged after the retreating machines.

"No, no, no..." Falcon murmured. "Sorry, Nicol Amalfi, but I'm not letting you stop us." He triggered the Death Blossoms, forcing the Blitz to break off its attack in the face of withering energy fire from the wired gunbarrels. Falcon meant business.

With the Duel and Buster unable to find them in the chaos, Raptor and Strike touched down together on the _Archangel_'s aft deck, as the majestic ship sailed out of the doomed base.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

Kira shut down the Strike's systems with a feeling of relief... a feeling overwhelmed by the last words he'd heard out of Gerard Garcia's mouth. 

They hadn't been directed at him, but they'd hit home nonetheless. As Garcia was hauled away by Falcon, he'd ranted at the pilot. _"But you're already a traitor to your fellow Coordinators! How can you do this?"_

_Am_ I..._ a traitor?_ he thought, unnerved.

Falcon got out of his own machine, to find Mu waiting for him. The Hawk clapped him on the shoulder, one warrior to another. "Nice work out there, Falcon. Survived another one, huh?"

The pilot nodded. "Yeah; not that it was particularly difficult."

The were nearly to the hatch when Kira left the Strike and pushed past them, without a word; the two pilots exchanged glances. "What was _that_ about?" Mu wondered.

Falcon shrugged. "Beats me." It didn't occur to him that Garcia's final words might have affected his fellow Coordinator in such a manner; he'd barely even noticed them, himself. "Well, Mu, I need some rest. I'll see you later."

"Right." Still puzzled by their comrade's behavior, the two "birds of a feather" also left the hanger, one to rest, the other to check the situation on the Bridge.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Well, we made it," Sophia remarked with a sigh, a couple of hours after their successful escape from Artemis. "I had my doubts, for a little while there." 

"Hey," Mu said with a smile, "how could you have doubted us? Kira's already a good pilot, and Falcon and I are both people who can make the impossible possible, aren't we?"

"I guess." _But how much of that is because of Doctor Metzinger?_ she wondered.

"You know..." Murrue said slowly. "There's something that's been bothering me ever since Falcon came onboard, Sophia."

"What's that?" her friend asked, looking at her sharply.

The Captain looked at her quizzically. "I know he's a good eight years younger than you, Sophia, but it still strikes me as a little odd that you two don't really look alike."

Sophia sighed. "I figured this would come up sooner or later. I guess it's time I came clean." _But not on everything..._ "Over here."

She led Murrue and Mu to the unoccupied Communications station, glad that Kuzzey was off-duty, and started punching buttons. "Falcon mentioned he was adopted," Mu remarked, "but you seem to be implying there's more to it."

Sophia looked at him, eyebrow raised. "He said that? Well, I always suspected he knew... but yeah, there's more to it than he knows. See, _I_ know who his _real_ parents were."

"Who?" Murrue asked.

"Just watch; I think you can draw your own conclusions." The black-haired lieutenant brought up an image file. "This is a photo of Falcon, taken from the _Archangel_'s security cameras. Now, to begin with, you should know that Falcon's face is a mask; for the last several years, he's been systematically altering his appearance, though I'm not sure why. Anyway, start with removing the eyepatch..." She tapped a few keys. "Then the scar... and then shade his hair back to its original color..." The brown hair slowly changed, brightening to blonde.

Murrue gasped, and Mu's jaw dropped. "What in the _world-?"_

Sophia nodded. "That's right, Lieutenant. As far as I know, he's never gone by his real name; but he was born Ken La Flaga."

* * *

Author's note: Falcon meets his friend in battle, and Gerard Garcia meets an ignominious end. And now Falcon's true name has been revealed… 

Well, I trust there were some surprises in this chapter; though I admit I'm surprised people haven't already figured out Falcon's identity. After all, he can sense Rau Le Creuset.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I think I can safely say the chapter length will remain consistent. However, I don't think the next update will come _quite_ so soon; this one was the result of spending more time in front of a keyboard than I want to think about. Shudder.

Ninofchaos, now you know who Falcon's blood relation is. I imagine it's not _too_ surprising, considering.

Victor227, I actually _don't_ really get tired of doing the same events from different perspectives; though I confess this portion is slightly tedious for me. After all, taken together with the original _and_ rewritten first chapter of Brothers in Arms, this is my third time through. Ugh.

As for Falcon's genetic modifications, I will say that some of them may be revealed sooner than you think, while others will be much, much later.

Infinite Freedom, Falcon's new mobile suit will be the ZGMF-X00A Preybird (name in keeping with the bird of prey trend); and the "00A" designation has a certain significance, as will be seen.

I'm aware that the Heavyarms has beam Gatlings (I'd forgotten, but I _did_ know it), but I'm still not sure it would fit. As for Altron, my point stands: even with the Custom, I just don't like it very much.

Now, about what Kevin said to Castile in Chapter 28 of Brothers in Arms… Well, I'm not precisely sure myself. My Russian is virtually nonexistent; and the one insult I can think of that would produce that reaction is _not_ polite, and I refuse to repeat it. Suffice it to say that it is about the worst thing you can say to a Russian, and leave it at that.

Ominae, you could say that. Be assured that he'll clash with his sister frequently throughout the story.

NukeDawg, now you know if you were correct or not. Personally, I would not be surprised if you guessed correctly, given the few hints strewn throughout.

Guess that's everything. Let me know if it was any good. -Solid Shark


	5. Chapter 5: Silent Sentinel

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Mu and Murrue stared at Sophia in disbelief. "Are you telling me," the Hawk of Endymion said incredulously, "that Falcon is my little brother?" 

She nodded. "That's exactly what I'm telling you, Lieutenant."

Mu shook his head almost violently. "That's not possible," he insisted. "It's _impossible._ Falcon's only seventeen, right? By the time he was born, my parents were dead."

Sophia nodded again, soberly. "I know that, Lieutenant. Fact is, Falcon wasn't born naturally. I don't know all the details-" which was true enough, though she did know far more than she would admit "-but I _do_ know he was created using preserved genetic material; though whether he is truly your sibling or a clone of your father, I don't know. There was weird talk about some kind of prototype artificial womb, among other things. I'm not sure why he was created, but the project never got very far." She frowned. "There was some kind of disaster at the lab, and in the aftermath, Falcon got separated and wound up in an orphanage, which is how he came to be my adopted brother."

"Did you ever find out what caused the disaster?" Murrue asked, while Mu digested the stunning revelation.

"Blue Cosmos, probably." Sophia's frown deepened, as she considered how much she could safely reveal. "The man behind the project was Doctor Heinrich Metzinger," she said finally. "I doubt you've heard of him; he was -or is; he may still be alive- a pioneer in genetic engineering, but not a very well-known one. Exactly what he was trying to accomplish is unclear, but apparently he got wind of the Lieutenant's kinesthesia test scores -though this was long before he joined the military- and thought the La Flaga family line would be ideal for his purposes."

"Obviously, he was right," Mu mused. "No wonder I had so much trouble with Falcon when we were fighting on the Grimaldi Front." _And maybe this is part of why Le Creuset was trying find out who he really was..._

"What happened to Metzinger?" Murrue asked.

Her friend shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. The good doctor never tried to claim custody, so I assume he was either killed in the incident, or he found some other way of continuing his experiments."

The captain started to speak again, but Mu interrupted, looking down at Natarle. "Get Falcon up here, right away," he ordered.

She complied without hesitation, as stunned as any of them. "Commander DiFalco to the Bridge," she said into the intercom. "Repeat, Commander DiFalco to the Bridge."

He turned to Sophia. "Somehow, Lieutenant," he said quietly, "I don't think Falcon is going to be very pleased with you, after holding out on him for so long."

She winced. "Somehow, Lieutenant, I think you're right."

* * *

When Falcon arrived, he listened in silence as Mu filled him in. Then he turned to his sister, non-expression seeming somehow menacing now. "And why, exactly," he said icily, "was this kept from me for seventeen years? Well?" 

Sophia seemed to wilt for a moment. "Look, Falcon, Mom and Dad never even knew who your real parents were; I uncovered that information myself, a few years ago. I never told them because I didn't want them to worry... and I didn't tell you because you were still too young."

His eye narrowed. "So why didn't you tell me later?"

"Because we hardly ever saw each other," she fired back. "You never seemed to care that much about seeing me, so-"

"That kind of secretiveness is one of the reasons I didn't care that you stayed away, sister," he said coldly. "Maybe if you'd come right out and told me, a lot of this could have been avoided."

Sophia looked away. "Maybe," she admitted. "But there are other factors..." She trailed off, unwilling to reveal what she knew of Der Schreckick Eins.

Mu rolled his eyes, but decided things had gone far enough. "What matters is that now we know," he said, laying a hand on Falcon's shoulder. "Although I certainly never expected _this!"_

The one-eyed pilot nodded. "Neither did I. But it does explain certain things, doesn't it? Such as how similar our talents are."

"Yeah; though I don't know if I could pull that beam-deflection stunt you used against the Blitz." Mu shrugged. "Of course, I can't pilot a mobile suit, either."

"That's because he's a Coordinator, and you aren't," Sophia put in. "On the other hand, according to your test scores and battle data, Lieutenant, your skills are about as close to Coordinator level as a Natural can get."

"I'm sure I would have found that very reassuring if my Coordinator brother had blown me to space dust at Endymion," he said dryly.

Murrue shook her head. "The Hawk of Endymion and the Falcon of Grimaldi; mortal enemies and blood brothers. It's like something out of a book."

"One with far too many clichés," Falcon murmured. He glanced at Sophia. "One thing, sister: don't ever hold out on me like that again. Understand?"

She nodded, wincing. "Oh, yeah." _Man, there's going to be one _major_ explosion if he ever finds out about Der Schreckick Eins..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, February 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

Days after the _Archangel_ escaped from Artemis, it was time to determine the ship's next move. They'd had a number of problems _before_ Artemis, and none of them had been resolved. 

"We're starting to run a little low on food," Mu mused, sitting in the copilot's seat (Tolle being off-duty). "Worse, we've only got enough water for a few more days."

Murrue nodded. "I know. I've been worried about that ever since Heliopolis collapsed. I'd hoped Artemis could remedy that situation, but..."

"Maybe if we plotted a course closer to Earth?" Natarle suggested. "If we can fly a tighter course across the orbital path, we might be able to reach Earth Alliance territory with the supplies we have."

Neumann shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Ma'am. Remember, there's the Debris Belt to consider; and if we chart our course any closer, we _will_ have to pass through it."

Murrue frowned. "Why don't we do that?"

Falcon, standing at the rear of the Bridge, shook his head. "Negative. With that much debris floating around, we'd end up as _part_ of it, more than likely."

"True enough," Mu agreed; more evidence that they were brothers was the fact that they usually thought alike. "Unless... Hey, wait a second!" He turned in his seat, an arrested expression on his face. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The ex-ZAFT pilot nodded thoughtfully. "Could be, Mu. There's a lot of junk out there..." He trailed off. "I think we should get Kira and the others in on this," he said after a moment. "We'll need their assistance to pull it off, more than likely."

Sophia looked up at her brother. "Just what are you two thinking of?"

"Patience, sister," he said calmly. "Patience. All shall be revealed at the proper time."

_That's another thing that's starting to get on my nerves,_ she thought._ He can toss off all those sarcastic remarks... without any more emotion than a shark tearing into a school of fish._

"You might say we're thinking of a way to make the impossible possible," Mu told her with a smile... thus irritating her even more.

* * *

_Archangel, _Cafeteria

* * *

Kira sat at a table, staring blankly at a bulkhead, while he ate in an absentminded fashion. He was depressed, which wasn't too surprising; Athrun was with the enemy, and now he was a traitor to his own kind... or so some said. 

He was reminded of something Falcon had told him the day before, quoting one his "Lessons of War". _"If you get to feeling down, Kira, just remember Lesson Thirty-three: War is ninety-seven percent boredom, two percent depression, and one percent sheer, howling terror. So far, you've experienced the one percent of terror, and you'll probably soon be in the two percent of depression. But cheer up: you're almost to the ninety-seven percent boredom phase."_

As far as Kira could tell, Falcon was telling the literal truth as he saw it.

And when he got to thinking about Garcia's last words, he took comfort in what Falcon had told him the day Heliopolis was shattered, about how one's genes didn't determine who one's "kind" was. And, of course, there was Lesson Twenty-six: One man's traitor is another man's patriot. Kira supposed Falcon fell into that category, and so did he, after a fashion.

"Hey, Earth to Kira," Tolle said, waving a fork. "You alive over there?"

Kira twitched, having more or less lost track of the outside world. "Huh? What's up, Tolle?"

"I was just saying that I was wondering what we were going to do about the supplies," his friend said. "We're nearly out of water, in case you didn't notice."

He had, actually; and now a part of him wondered if Falcon had any "lessons" that covered _this_ situation. Probably; the man seemed to be a modern Sun Tzu... though with more sarcastic phrasing.

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Kira said after a moment. "The officers all know about it, so they're probably trying to figure that out right now."

"Trying, yes," Flay said nervously. "But will they think of something in time?"

Sai laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Of course they will, Flay. We haven't come this far to fail because of some little thing like that."

"And Falcon's up there too," Mir pointed out. "With him and the Lieutenant -I still can't believe they're brothers- they'll find the solution without a problem."

Tolle looked at her strangely. "You really like the guy, don't you?"

She glared at him. "Don't look at me like that, Tolle! I just think that, beneath that exterior of his, he's a nice guy; and nobody else, except maybe Lieutenant La Flaga, is willing to treat him like a human being."

"Now wait a minute, Mir," Sai protested. "That's not really-"

"Think about it," Mir challenged. "All of you; especially you, Kuzzey. Ever since Heliopolis, you've all thought of him just as 'that ZAFT pilot', haven't you? Just another guy who's famous for making the impossible possible, all the while overlooking the guy himself. There's more to him that just the ace pilot, you know; he has feelings."

"But his sister says-" Kuzzey began.

"That he has all the warm feelings of a dead fish?" She snorted. "Notice Lieutenant DiFalco's barely even seen him in almost ten years. Frankly, I think she doesn't know she's talking about."

"Miriallia's right," Kira said, standing. "I don't know how much 'warm feeling' he has, but he's really not that different from us. Except..." He trailed off. "Except he's feeling guilty about something."

Sai tilted his head. "What do you mean, Kira?"

"I don't know... but there's more to his desertion than just a disagreement with ZAFT policy," Kira pointed out. "There has to be. I think there's something he knows, or did, that's eating him."

Mir nodded. "I noticed that, too. But every time somebody brings up why he deserted, Falcon just says it's none of their business or that it's classified. It looks to me, though, that he's scared of something, and it scared him badly enough to make him leave ZAFT, and even fight them."

"But he seems pleased ZAFT stole four of the new mobile suits," Flay noted. "Why...?"

Kira thought about that. "He said he's fighting for a balance," he said slowly. "I think he would have preferred it if _Archangel_ had kept three, to achieve parity; but since we only have two, he has to compensate by going out there himself."

"I'd call that compensating," Tolle agreed. "ZAFT's Ace of Aces is worth three other pilots."

"But could that goal make him fight the _Archangel?"_ Flay said worriedly.

"No way, Flay," Mir told her. "I don't think that's how it works for him. Maybe there'll come a time when turning on the _Archangel_ will be the best way to carry out his goal... but I think he'll find another way. It's not in him to betray someone he's fought alongside unless there's _no_ other option, and I don't think that's the case here."

"But how much can one guy do all by himself?" Kuzzey said plaintively. "It just doesn't make sense!"

"Yes, it does," she said quietly. "According to Lieutenant La Flaga, though one of them died later, there _were_ four other survivors of Endymion in Falcon's unit. Which means there are still three Gray Demons somewhere in ZAFT." Her gaze went over them all. "Don't you think he'd have left instructions for them? General guidelines, at least? His people were very loyal to him, so I don't think he's alone in this."

_That_ thought had not occurred to any of them, but now that they thought about it, Falcon was known for being a very intelligent individual, and an excellent tactician. That didn't necessarily equate to strategic brilliance, of course, but there were some in the media and the Earth Forces who insisted the Grimaldi Falcon had played a not inconsiderable role in planning the Nova operation... and possibly had selected the target himself. There was still considerable controversy among the top brass about just how much influence he really had on ZAFT policy. Some said he was just one team commander, who happened to have a well-earned reputation as a combat pilot. Others said he was all of that, but also a man with considerable clout in ZAFT's High Command.

A small minority, however, believed Falcon had climbed _very_ high in the ZAFT hierarchy, despite his official title of commander. This group said the Grimaldi Falcon had a role in planning several of ZAFT's most successful operations, and had likely left behind detailed plans even after his "death" (the Earth Forces had eventually decided, after his disappearance, that Falcon was KIA) at Nova; plans that even now were still valid.

And, they claimed, he had the ear of National Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala himself.

No one knew for sure. After a week on the _Archangel,_ Falcon still revealed little about his last months with ZAFT. He was perfectly willing to speak of his time up to and including Endymion, but beyond that he would merely say he fought at Nova and was involved in some kind of project that had prompted his desertion; no other details were known, except that he apparently had a great deal of sensitive information in his pocket computer.

"So what do you think he's planning?" Kira said finally.

"I have no idea," Mir admitted. "Actually, I don't think he _is_ planning anything right now, really. Anything to do with the PLANTs must have been set in motion last year; anything beyond that he must be making up as he goes along, because I don't think he expected to be dragged back into the war at Heliopolis. I think he thought his part was over, that anything else would have to be accomplished by his teammates."

"You're making him out to be some kind of Machiavellian schemer," Tolle remarked. "You think Falcon's really that devious?"

"They say he had the ear of Patrick Zala," she pointed out. "After everything I've seen, I'm inclined to believe it."

Further discussion was cut off by the ship's public address system. _"Kira Yamato, Sai Argyle, Tolle Koenig, Miriallia Haw, Kuzzey Buskirk, and Flay Allster, please report to the Bridge."_

The six exchanged glances. "I wonder what's up?" Sai murmured.

"Bet Falcon's up to his neck in it," Tolle opined.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Supplies?" Sai said, minutes later. "There's some way we can get some?" 

"You might say that," Mu agreed, nodding. "Or," he added with a raffish look, "you might say that we intend to take them."

Kira's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, Lieutenant?"

"We're now entering the Debris Belt," Murrue informed them. "As you know, besides various things such as old tools, obsolete satellites-"

"And obsolete cosmonaughts," Mu put in under his breath, causing Falcon to have a brief coughing fit.

"-there are also a number of wrecked spacecraft," she finished, sending the Hawk a quelling look and glancing briefly at Falcon, wondering if that had been genuine coughing or a cover for actual laughter. Probably the former; he didn't look capable of levity. "According to the laws of salvage, these ships belong to no one as long as they're just floating, abandoned, in orbit."

Sai drew back, floating away. "Hold on a minute! You don't mean-"

"Yes, we do," Falcon said quietly. "We don't have much choice; and in war, people often have to do things they'd rather not."

"But that's stealing!" Kuzzey protested.

Mu shook his head. "No, it isn't. When it comes to salvage, it's finders keepers, and has been for a long time. And Falcon's right: we don't have any other choice."

"So what does that have to do with _us?"_ Kira asked. "We don't know what to look for."

"You don't have to." Murrue looked at each of them in turn. "What we need you young people for is to man the shuttles to bring in the supplies, once we've found them. You'll be along for the search as well, of course, but Petty Officers Chandra and Pal will accompany you, as well as Falcon; I think he's competent in that area."

"You might say that." Falcon glanced out the main viewport. "Mu," he said abruptly, "I'll need a back-seater for this run."

Mu blinked. "Huh? Why?"

"Let's just say that I'm expecting to have to go EVA out there," the ace replied. "So I'll need someone to take control of Raptor while I'm at it. Don't worry, even a Natural can handle it well enough to move it around, outside of combat."

"Comforting," the Hawk said dryly. "I presume you do plan on letting me in on the secret sometime, little brother?"

Falcon didn't rise to the bait, despite the fact that whenever _Sophia_ had called him that, he'd gotten just a mite irritated. Or, to be more precise, he threw her against a wall the one and only time she said it. _Of course, she's not really my sister, is she? I'll tolerate it from Mu... if only to avoid breaking my cover._

Aloud, he said, "Yes, Mu, you'll know. But only when we get there. There's... something I'll have to do, and something all of you should see."

He did not choose to explain that remark.

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, PLANT Supreme Council Chamber, February 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

Several million kilometers away and approximately a hundred and twenty degrees around the Earth's orbit from the _Archangel,_ Rau Le Creuset was delivering his report on the events at Heliopolis to the PLANT Supreme Council. It was not an enviable task. 

"...And, as you can see from the information I've provided, the collapse of Heliopolis was unavoidable; and, in the end, due to the Earth Forces' own actions," Le Creuset concluded.

Various members of the Council, such as Chairman Siegel Clyne and Representatives Tad Elsman and Yuri Amalfi were obviously concerned by this news, but National Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala merely nodded thoughtfully. "Understood, Commander. However: are these new machines worth the sacrifices made by our ZAFT forces?"

Le Creuset nodded. "I believe so, Sir, and to explain their phenomenal potential, I have here one of our pilots, Athrun Zala, who flew one of the stolen machines and met the two that remain with the Earth Forces in battle. However..." He paused, debating how to present the next headache, and finally decided to be blunt. "I'm afraid I have even worse news, from our perspective, than the collapse of Heliopolis. You see, Sir, we've identified the pilot of one of the two remaining G-weapons. His name is Kenneth DiFalco."

That news was greeted with stunned silence, especially by Tad Elsman. He knew the young man well, since the Grimaldi Falcon was his son Dearka's best friend. The idea of him deserting had been hard enough to swallow, but actually _defecting_ to the Earth Alliance? Preposterous!

But Patrick Zala had even more reason to be shocked... and very, very concerned.

After the silence had faded, to be replaced by murmurings, Zala was still thinking furiously... or trying to, at least, in the face of that monstrous shock.

Finally, he shot to his feet. _"Are you sure about that?"_

Even Le Creuset winced at the volume; he also began to suspect his former teammate had risen a little higher in ZAFT's hierarchy than he'd thought. "Yes, Sir, I'm afraid so. I spoke to him personally, and his tactics matched what I recalled of him... as did his battle cry."

Zala closed his eyes. "This," he said harshly, "is a _disaster!"_

Clyne looked at him in concern. "Is something wrong, Representative Zala? I am, of course, aware of the implications of Commander DiFalco's defection, both in terms of his knowledge of the homeland's defenses and the effect it will undoubtedly have on morale, but you seem to be implying something more."

His one-time political ally took a deep breath. "Yes, Mr. Chairman, there's more. I would prefer not to go into too much detail in this setting, as some of it is highly sensitive military information, but yes, Commander DiFalco was far more important than his rank would suggest." Zala glanced around the chamber. "All of you know that it was the Grimaldi Falcon who suggested the attack on Nova, in addition to providing the plan that allowed us to take it and make it our own. What you may not know is that many operations we are currently planning -most, perhaps _all_ of them- were Commander DiFalco's plans. To make matters worse, he was deeply involved in a highly classified military program, information about which could be ruinous to us should it reach Alliance hands."

There was another long silence, finally broken by Le Creuset. "I don't think it's as bad as that, Sir," he offered. "Admittedly, with his defection we can no longer be certain of it, but, having served with the man in combat, it is my professional opinion that Commander DiFalco will _not_ give the Earth Forces any more information than absolutely necessary, and that he would not under any circumstances provide them with the knowledge necessary to pass Boaz and Jachin Due."

"Explain, please," Clyne requested.

"Of course, Sir. Your Excellencies, whatever he may have done, Ken DiFalco is a son of the PLANTs... and one that remembers the loss of Junius Seven with bitterness. Additionally, I believe him to be entirely sincere in his current objective, however much I may disagree with it."

"What objective is that?" Elsman said sharply.

Le Creuset turned to him. "According to one of my pilots, Dearka Elsman -DiFalco's best friend- DiFalco is apparently attempting to achieve a strategic victory for the PLANTs... but not an overwhelming one. He wishes us victory, but not to the extent that we dictate all terms to the Earth Alliance. You will notice that, despite his actions in combat against _Vesalius_ and her mobile suits, DiFalco did not actually interfere in our capture of the G-weapons, and even now resorts to disabling attacks only."

"Odd activity for a traitor," Ezalia Joule observed. "Do you actually believe Elsman's reports?"

"I believe that Dearka was telling the truth, yes," he acknowledged. "If you're asking if I think DiFalco truly believes himself to be acting in the best interests of the PLANTs... then yes, I would say I do. It may sound insane, Ma'am, but even if DiFalco _has_ snapped -which I'm not certain of- madmen can be very rational and consistent within their delusion."

"A point," Elsman murmured. "And, like you, I find it difficult to understand how Falcon could have betrayed us. I knew the young man well, even before he joined ZAFT." He ran a hand through his long brown hair, frowning. "Is there any other possible explanation for his behavior, Commander?"

Le Creuset shrugged. "Falcon is well known for his... individualistic tendencies, Sir. He is brilliant and devious; and I seem to recall he was transferred to Special Forces over his own vehement protests. It has occurred to me that, in his frustration at being taken from the frontline, Falcon may have departed to operate undercover, on his own initiative. In that scenario, his months on Heliopolis with no apparent activity could be construed as a method of building his cover."

Zala looked at him. "Just how likely do you think this theory is, Commander Le Creuset?"

"Difficult to say, Sir. Having served with him, I am disinclined to believe him capable of treason... but on the other hand, he _did_ kill Olor and Matthew, two of my veteran pilots."

Clyne steepled his fingers, deep in thought. "Very well," he said finally. "Assuming there is no objection, our forces will be directed to capture Commander DiFalco if at all possible, preferably relatively undamaged." He glanced around the table. "Is that acceptable, Committee Chairman Zala?"

Zala frowned, but finally nodded. "Yes. It's important to remove him from the Earth Forces' reach as soon as possible, but not absolutely critical. Codes can be changed -and will be, though we'll leave an option open should this truly be some insane covert operation- and as for battle plans... well, Commander DiFalco may be privy to them, and probably has copies of them in his possession, but there's little one man can do to affect them, even if he gains access to Earth Alliance Headquarters. And I doubt they'd be inclined to believe him, anyway."

Joule nodded. "Agreed. The Grimaldi Falcon, a defector? Ha! They'd assume it was a trick, and for all anyone knows, it may be."

Clyne nodded. "Then it's settled. Commander Le Creuset?"

"I'll pass the orders on to my men," the masked commander promised.

"Good. Now, I believe you said you had information on the Alliance mobile suits?"

"Yes, Sir." Le Creuset glanced back. "Athrun?"

Athrun stepped forward, swiftly taking his commander's place before the Council table. "First," he began, showing no trace of his unease at facing the Supreme Council of the PLANTs, "I would like to present this machine, the Aegis." Holographic images of the red mobile suit appeared in the air. "One major characteristic is its transformation capability, allowing it to convert to a mobile armor for certain specialized roles. With its transforming frame, the GAT-X303 Aegis is fundamentally different from the other five machines." Combat data began streaming, and he began to point out the weapons. "In mobile suit mode, it is equipped with the CIWS Igelstellungs, four beam sabers, an anti-beam shield, and a high-energy focused beam rifle. In mobile armor form, its main weapon is the Scylla, a 580 millimeter multiphase energy cannon." A graphic was shown of it going from basic gray to its standard red. "One major technological advance used in these machines is Phase-shift armor. When in use, it puts a severe drain on the machine's energy battery, but it has compensations: this new armor is virtually impervious to physical weapons, and can only be pierced by energy weapons such as beam rifles and sabers."

The image changed, to Yzak's gray-and-blue machine. "GAT-X102: the Duel," Athrun continued. "The most basic of the six machines, this mobile suit is intended for close combat, and is believed to be the basis for the other five machines. It is the most lightly armed, having only CIWS, two beam sabers, and a beam rifle with attached grenade launcher."

He pointed out the next model, Dearka's green-and-tan unit. "GAT-X103 Buster. It possesses no close-range weapons, and appears to be intended for fire support and long-range sniper attacks. It is not equipped with a shield; however, it does have a 57 millimeter gun launcher, a high-energy focused beam rifle, and a pair of missile launchers, one in each shoulder. In the hands of an expert marksman, Buster is a lethal weapon."

The graphic switched to Nicol's menacing -black-and-red mobile suit. "GAT-X207: the Blitz. This model is equipped with a unique system known as Mirage Colloid, which covers the machine with colloid gas particles, held in place by an electromagnetic field, rendering Blitz virtually invisible radar, infrared, and even the naked eye; however, power requirements mean it cannot be used while Phase-shift is active. Blitz is also equipped with the Gleipnir piercer lock, and the Trikeros offensive shield system, which consists of a beam rifle, beam saber, and three kinetic penetrator darts."

Athrun braced himself for what he was about to explain. "And finally, the pair that got away." He altered the image, displaying Kira Yamato's machine. "GAT-X105 Strike. In the case of this model, we are limited to observational data alone, but we've already seen all of its various weapons in action. First, the machine itself is equipped with Igelstellungs, a beam rifle, and a pair of Armor Schneider combat knives, stored in the hips. Additionally, its loadout can be customized through the use of Striker packs, giving it added firepower, endurance, and maneuverability. Most versatile is the Aile package, which grants the Strike atmospheric flight capabilities and a pair of beam sabers, making it essentially an up-rated version of the Duel. The Launcher loadout, on the other hand, equips the machine with an antiship Vulcan cannon, a pair of gun launchers, and a 320 millimeter hyper-impulse cannon; as you can see from the combat data-" scenes from Heliopolis were playing "-it has power far in excess of any other mobile suit. Finally, the Sword Strike pack uses a fifteen-meter antiship sword, a rocket anchor, and a beam boomerang."

The screen changed one last time. "And last, but by no means least: GAT-X107 Raptor. At first glance, it isn't that different from the Strike. The basic frame is the same, and it's equipped with Igelstellungs, Armor Schneiders, a beam rifle, and a hardwired Aile Strike pack; and it's been observed that it can use weapons from the Strike's other modes. However, from com imagery it's evident it has space for a second crewmember, probably a gunner; additionally, it carries a pair of beam cannons on the Striker pack... and its most unique feature, the so-called Death Blossom system. Clearly inspired by the Moebius Zero's wired gunbarrels, this system isn't very different. The only substantive difference is that these are energy weapons... which means it is quite capable of bringing down even other machines of its series." Athrun faced the Council directly. "This would not be a problem, as the system can only be used by someone with exceptional powers of spatial awareness... were it not for the fact that Raptor is now Commander DiFalco's personal machine."

Heads nodded at that; the Grimaldi Falcon's skills in that area were well known to all of them, particularly Zala and Elsman. "Thank you for your report," Clyne said. "Commander Le Creuset, Mr. Zala, you're dismissed."

They saluted. "Yes, Sir," Le Creuset said respectfully, and left with Athrun.

After they were gone, Elsman nearly snapped the pencil he held. "They've manufactured these abominations?" he said through gritted teeth. "So much for Orb's claims of neutrality!"

"Surely only six machines -four of which are now in our hands- cannot be _that_ much of a threat," Amalfi said uneasily.

"Perhaps not," Zala acknowledged. "But the next stage is obviously mass production; and _that,_ Representative Amalfi, _is_ a threat." He glowered at the room at large. "And the Grimaldi Falcon's defection makes the situation even worse! However," he went on, visibly getting hold of himself, "I believe I know just the man to bring in Commander DiFalco; or, if the need should arise, neutralize him. As it happens, I had already asked him to join us, to present his report on the Heliopolis situation. Shall I send him in?"

Clyne considered, then nodded. "Very well, Committee Chairman Zala."

Zala pressed an intercom button on the table. "Send in Commander Huckebein."

A few moments later, the distinctive mask came into view... and Victor Tempest walked into the Council Chamber.

* * *

Earth Orbit, Debris Belt

* * *

The _Archangel_, having entered the extremely hazardous Debris Belt, had finally begun its search for water supplies. Food could wait, but water was running dangerously low. 

To this end, the ship launched several Mystral work shuttles, along with the Strike and the Raptor for escort purposes... as well as Falcon's mysterious errand.

"Pretty high-tech setup," Mu commented from the machine's gunner's seat. "A few gadgets I don't think even the Strike has."

"That's because my sister, for all her -many- faults, is a brilliant engineer," Falcon replied. "The Death Blossom system, for example, is obviously her work; though why she bothered, I don't know."

The Hawk nodded. "Yeah; not many pilots out there who can handle it, be they Natural _or_ Coordinator. Still, I think we should be grateful she did it; and that she was in the project, for that matter."

"Oh, I am... but that doesn't mean I'm happy with her." Not exactly news. The entire ship knew by now that Falcon and Sophia were siblings, at least by adoption; and that they weren't speaking. "See anything like what we're looking for yet?"

Mu squinted at his displays. "Not yet. Kira?"

"Me either." Kira glanced at the shuttles. "Sai, Tolle? Find anything?"

"Not yet," Sai answered. "Wait, there's something..." They were coming up on a very large, very peculiar piece of debris, several kilometers in extent...

Tolle gasped. "No way! That's... that's..."

Of them all, only Falcon was unsurprised. "The remains of Junius Seven."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Murrue stared at the image on the screen in mute shock. _"Are you sure?"_ she heard Mu ask, over the radio. 

_"Oh, yeah,"_ Falcon answered._ "Think I wouldn't recognize the remains of one of the worst atrocities in human history? The remains of the place where I was born? This is it, all right."_

Apparently, it was their day for surprises, as the next report showed. "Mobile suit on radar!" Tonomura called out. "We're reading a CGUE atop the PLANT's remains!"

"Activate laser designator!" Natarle snapped, startled out of her own reverie. "Load missile tubes, lock Gottfrieds on-"

_"Belay that,"_ Falcon snapped._ "Weapons tight,_ Archangel,_ and take a closer look."_

Puzzled, but deferring to the ace, Natarle complied... and a moment later understood. "Oh. Of course; I should have known."

"We all should have," Murrue murmured, seeing the new image on the screen. It was a CGUE all right... a slate-gray CGUE, with feather markings. "After all, where else would a child of murdered Junius leave his personal machine?"

_"I couldn't take it with me to Heliopolis, so I left it here, instead,"_ Falcon explained quietly._ "A silent sentinel, watching over my murdered homeland."_ He glanced over his shoulder._ "This is why I brought you along, Mu. I'm going out there." _He looked back out of the screen._ "I'm bringing it aboard, Murrue. There's no need to leave it here any longer... and it has a few useful odds and ends."_

The link was cut, and on the screen, Raptor's hatch opened.

* * *

Debris Belt, Ruins of Junius Seven

* * *

Mu watched the pilot push himself out of the cockpit, feeling almost as numb as the volunteers. _The remains of Junius Seven... I had no idea they'd wound up here... or that Falcon was from here._

"Be careful out there, eh, Brother?" he called.

The seemingly-emotionless pilot looked back, cocked an eyebrow, and said merely, "Aren't I always?"

Falcon now crossed the short gulf to his old mobile suit, peripherally aware as he did so of his classmates and a couple of _Archangel_'s regular crew going out to investigate the colony itself. He didn't need to; the last time he was here, he'd searched through the rubble and bodies himself... and found the one he sought, to his sorrow.

He reached the CGUE's hatch, and quickly typed 2-14-70 into the hatch controls. The date of the Bloody Valentine was the key, and the machine answered its master's call, opening the hatch in the utter silence of the vastness of space.

Falcon glanced around, noting that all was as he had left it. Most prominent was the sword that stood upright in the pilot's seat; with a scabbard and pommel of red, the katana matched the wakizashi he wore at his side. He had left it with the CGUE, months before, because it would have been much harder to conceal; and concealment had been highly desirable for the greatest traitor to ZAFT. Now, though, he had returned to the field of battle, and hiding was no longer an issue.

Tucked into a corner of the instrument panel was a carefully-protected photograph, of a teenage girl with hair as blonde as Falcon's had been, years before. The significance of that picture was known to only two living people... and neither would speak of the tragedy it represented.

Shaking off old, painful memories, Falcon settled into the pilot's seat and began powering up the CGUE's systems. ""This is the Grimaldi Falcon," he said into the now-active radio. "I'm returning to the ship."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"No way! You can't be serious!" 

Kira was staring at Natarle in disbelief; the reason was not hard to fathom. Their explorations of Junius Seven's remains had revealed water, and lots of it... but he felt it was wrong to take it from the murdered colony.

"There's close to a hundred million tons of ice over there," Natarle pointed out. "And we're running very low on water, remember; that's the reason we came here in the first place."

"But that's a graveyard!" Kira protested. "That's where hundreds of thousands of people lost their _lives,_ Natarle! And yet _you-"_

"It was two hundred forty-three thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one, to be exact," Falcon said quietly. "And I might have been one of them, had I not joined ZAFT. Yet what better purpose to put Junius' remains to than to aid the living, that they not perish, as well?"

"Aid the living? Even those who serve the organization that destroyed them all?" Mu asked. He was, of course, all in favor of taking the water from the colony; he was a very practical man. But he was interested in hearing Falcon's reasoning.

"We may yet put an end to this war, Mu," the one-eyed pilot told him. "This ship may, itself, insure that there is never another Bloody Valentine... and as that is _my_ mission, and I am a son of Junius Seven, I think I have the right to make such a judgment."

The Hawk nodded to himself. _Whatever he may choose to show the outside world, the guy _does_ have feelings... And I think Junius Seven's destruction had another significance for him..._

Even if he'd been inclined to press Falcon on the matter, the pilot didn't give him the chance. "I'll want Mr. Murdoch to look over my CGUE later," he said to Murrue. "I want to make sure it's still in proper shape, in case I should need it; and also, I'd like him to see if there's any way to modify its weapons for use on the Raptor. The sword, of course, isn't a problem; and it'll save power, using that rather than a beam saber on any mass-produced models. You'll also find that it's equipped with a particle cannon, somewhat more powerful than a standard beam rifle."

She nodded. "Right. But for now..."

"Yes. We need supplies." Falcon turned to Kira. "I know you don't like it, kid, but it has to be done. Will you assist?"

Kira sighed. "Not much choice, is there?"

"Then let's go."

* * *

Debris Belt, Ruins of Junius Seven

* * *

Within hours, the _Archangel_'s Mystral shuttles were at work, escorted by the Strike and Raptor (this, Mu stayed behind on the ship, since Falcon was perfectly capable of operating the machine by himself). Using various cutting tools, they began to separate sections of the ice, to be carried back to the ship. 

It was slow going, but Falcon didn't really mind. As a martial artist, he was a very patient man, and took the opportunity to use martial arts meditation techniques. It was something he did often... because he tended to get very little sleep.

When he did sleep, he tended to have nightmares, of the destruction of Junius Seven... and the far greater destruction he feared, the one that would be brought about by his own former comrades, should his mission fail. It was not yet possible, but Falcon knew they were working on a way to _make_ it possible.

But for now, his mad plan still had a chance of success, so he put it out of his mind and forced himself to relax, while keeping an ear open for the radio chatter.

_"How's it going?"_ Murrue asked, from the Bridge.

"Okay so far, Ma'am," Chandra replied. "At this rate, we should be finished in another three hours or so; but we've only got enough ammo for one more run."

"Understood; it'll be enough."

Falcon roused himself to take a look at his displays. He'd deployed the Death Blossoms to their maximum extension, and he was using them as remote sensors, to keep an eye on the area at large. At this particular moment, everything still looked green.

He keyed his radio. "Hey, Kira. Everything still okay at your end?" The Strike was patrolling on the opposite side of the colony.

"So far," Kira answered. "By the way, is this the 'ninety-seven percent boredom' part?"

Falcon nodded solemnly. "Sure is. And- Wait, I'm picking up something nearby... looks like a wrecked shuttle. Can you see it?"

Kira squinted at his displays. "Yeah, I see it. Looks like something hit it hard just recently, maybe yesterday; it says _Silverwind_ on the hull."

The one-eyed pilot stiffened. "Did you say _Silverwind?"_

"Yeah, why?"

"Never mind; it's noth-" Falcon broke off mid-word, as his wired gunbarrels picked up a heat signature. "Watch it, Kira, there's something else out here."

Unlike the ace, Kira could see the source of the signature directly; and his onboard computer identified it. "A two-seater GINN? Reconnaissance type... but what's it doing way out here?" It appeared to be examining the wreckage of the _Silverwind,_ which made no sense to Kira.

It made perfect sense to Falcon, though. "It's looking for something. Kira, if that spots us, the _Archangel,_ or the shuttles, we can't let it leave..."

"I know." Kira stared at the recon GINN, willing it to move away before it saw anything that would require him to destroy it. "Come on, go away, please..."

As if in answer to the Strike pilot's pleas, the GINN turned and began moving away... and then a Mystral rose into view, carrying a chunk of ice directly into the GINN's field of view.

Falcon whispered a curse, and Kira stared in horror. The Strike raised its beam rifle, still unseen by the ZAFT machine, and his finger began to tighten on the trigger. "No... I... I have to..."

Kuzzey and Chandra, in the shuttle, cried out as the GINN opened fire, missing with the first shot and then striking the fragile Mystral with the second.

That was the catalyst needed to prod two pilots into action. The Strike's beam rifle opened fire, and at the same instant, all four Death Blossoms bracketed the ZAFT unit and poured energy into the relatively-unarmored recon model.

The concentrated fire from five separate sources engulfed the GINN, leaving nothing but a cloud of gas and energy behind.

* * *

Author's note: Some of Falcon's secrets have been revealed, while others remain a mystery. Soon, a certain escape pod will be found in the rubble, and more events will begin to come together… 

Well, I seem to have achieved the desired effect with the revelation of the Mu/Falcon connection; kinda makes up for the relative lack of surprise when it comes to, say Kevin Walker's seizure of the _Dominion._

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I will certainly try to update at least that frequently; there's something I'm trying to get to before I must begin Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms, so I'm writing this as fast as I can while still retaining quality (and sanity).

Daniel Lynx, I think you'll find Falcon's actions with regard to Lacus interesting… as well as a certain connection between them (second hand, of course; I can hardly reuse the notion of an OC being related to her, after using it in Brothers in Arms).

Centurious, sorry for not revealing the exact nature of Falcon's relation to Mu in this chapter. Or not; after all, I could hardly be out of character and reveal things so soon, now could I?

I'll look forward to your story, of course, whenever it is finally posted.

As to your one-shot notion… let's just say I'm working on something like that.

Infinite Freedom, I must confess to initially being very startled by your perceptive comment about the DRAGOON system, until it occurred to me that Raptor's Death Blossom system was probably a dead giveaway. More than that, I shall not reveal.

Now, as to what Gundams will appear in A Call to Arms… well, that might be spoiling things. See, I've got some very intricate plans already in the works, and these will play a critical role. So just wait and see, eh?

Finally, though I'm pretty sure I said this at least twice in the course of Brothers in Arms, my reason for waiting on writing A Call to Arms is thus: I have to wait for Destiny to reach the US before I can even figure out exactly what I'll be talking about. And yes, I've heard there are ways to find it on the Net, but like I've said before, I prefer to wait for it to be properly localized and brought to America. Rest assured, though, that I'll get started as soon as I've seen a few episodes; I shouldn't need much, because episode summaries have at least given me enough of an idea of later events to make basic plans.

Arekuruu-inabikari-no-She, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer to get all the answers, but this at least explains how Falcon could have come into being several years after Mu's parents were already dead.

Ominae, I see I startled you. Good; that's the effect I was trying to get with several twists in Brothers in Arms, but never quite managed. But believe me, there'll be a few more surprises down the line…

NukeDawg, I thought you might have guessed it; I wasn't exactly subtle, after all. Hope you liked this chapter.

RVD, after reading Chapter 4 you should have an idea of the reason for the hair color change now (only an idea, of course; the full truth has yet to be revealed). In case you're still a little confused, though, what I meant to suggest -though I may not have been as clear as I intended- was that Falcon changed his hair color some time after Murrue last saw him, but before his sister effectively severed all contact. That's why Murrue would be surprised, and Sophia wouldn't.

I suppose that's everything. Let me know if it was good, bad, or ugly. Solid Shark


	6. Chapter 6: Princess of the PLANTS

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Debris Belt, Ruins of Junius Seven

* * *

In an eye blink, the GINN was gone, and three eyes stared at where it had been: Kira's two, and Falcon's one. They were both quite oblivious to the radio calls from the shuttle they had just rescued. 

"Thanks, guys," Kuzzey called, sounding as though all the blood in his body had been replaced by adrenaline.

"We owe you one," Chandra added. "Thanks."

_"Hey!"_ Mu called from the_ Archangel. "What happened?"_

Kira shut off his receiver, refusing to hear anything at all, and pounded his fists against his displays. _"Why?"_ he shouted, unheard in his cockpit.

Falcon, however, shook himself and keyed his microphone. "Falcon here, Mu. It's okay; we had a GINN come out to play, but we got it." _Two more of my comrades dead, _he thought bitterly. _How many more must die before this war is ended?_ "Didn't have much of a choice," he went on. "It saw the shuttle, so we couldn't let it leave. I could've tried a disabling shot, but there wasn't time..."

_"That's how it is in war, Falcon, you know that,"_ the Hawk said quietly._ "You knew the day you took over that machine that you'd have to fight, and even kill, your comrades; don't flip out on me now."_

"Not to worry, Mu," Falcon replied, voice steady. "If the Bloody Valentine didn't break me, nothing will. Doesn't mean I like it, though."

"True. How's the kid?"

The ace glanced at the motionless Strike, and shook his head. "I don't know. His radio's shut off, and his machine isn't moving; beyond that, I haven't the slightest idea."

_"I see."_ Mu sighed._ "Well, that should be the last load of ice; once it's aboard, you should get back here, too, and then if the kid's still in a funk we'll figure a way to get him back."_

"Roger that."

Kira, meanwhile, finally looked up through blurry eyes, as something on his instrument panel beeped. "Huh...? What a minute, that's a lifepod... But what's it doing out here, in the Debris Belt?"

Not thinking to tell anyone what he was up to, he guided his machine toward the source of the distress signal.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

After the Strike had dragged its cargo back to the _Archangel,_ the officers, volunteers, and several of the crew gathered in front of the lifepod, while Murdoch worked at its hatch controls. 

Natarle shook her head in a mixture of exasperation and rueful amusement. "You sure have a talent for retrieving things other people have left behind," she told Kira. "Maybe you should join the Junk Guild."

Kira blinked, but said nothing; his attention was focused on the lifepod.

"Any idea who's in that thing?" Mu said to Falcon, _sotto voce._

"A notion," the pilot acknowledged. "I know who _used_ to use the ship this thing came from; but things may have changed, and even if they haven't, she might not be the one in that pod." His hand rested idly on the hilt of his katana, and his eye was wary.

"'She'?" Mu asked.

He didn't get an answer. "Okay," Murdoch called. "I think I've got it; stand back, everybody."

The only change among the assembled men and women was the security men raising their rifles, and Falcon imperceptibly tightening his grip on his sheathed blade. They were ready for whatever might come out of there... or so they thought.

The hatch opened, and to the utter bemusement of everyone present, a pink ball floated out, muttering unintelligibly at the world in general.

The officers looked at each other in confusion, then turned almost as one to Falcon; but the ex-ZAFT ace was just as confused as they were. _What the devil is that?_

Then their gazes snapped back to the lifepod, as a voice spoke. "Thank you! Your assistance is very much appreciated!"

They stared as a pink-haired teenage girl drifted out of the pod... and Commander Kenneth DiFalco instinctively snapped to attention, right hand coming up in an automatic salute.

Mu glanced at him in surprise. "You know her, Falcon?" he whispered.

"I ought to," the pilot replied, just as quietly. "She personally presented the Order of the Nebula to me."

His older brother drew back in surprise, and then both their gazes were drawn back to the pink-haired girl, whose uncontrolled movement through the air had been arrested by Kira, who caught hold of her hand.

"Thank you," she said, with a grateful smile; then she turned to look at the assembled crew. It didn't take long for her eyes to come to a rest on the one man present who wore an eyepatch.

Before she could determine why he looked familiar, Falcon lowered the salute. "Hello, Miss Lacus," he said quietly. "It's been... some time." He bowed slightly. "I realize the uniform is a bit different these days, but I believe you may remember me."

Lacus Clyne gasped. "Commander DiFalco! I'd heard you were missing!" She glanced around again. "So, this is a ZAFT vessel?"

Falcon winced; he wasn't looking forward to the explanations that would surely be asked of him... and her, he could not refuse to answer. "No, Miss Lacus, I'm afraid it isn't. I'm afraid it's a very long story, but this ship belongs to the Earth Forces."

Now she was clearly confused. "Umm... may I ask what's going on?"

"He's right," Kira told her. "But you're safe now. Uh... welcome."

Natarle covered her eyes with one hand. _Oh, things just keep getting better and better. First a Coordinator turns up piloting the Strike, then he brings his friends along for the ride; after that, a famous ZAFT ace joins us and professes to be trying to secure victory for the _PLANTs._ Now _this_ girl turns up, and only Commander DiFalco knows who she is. Ugh._

Mu looked at his brother. "Just what is going on here, Falcon?"

"She's Lacus Clyne, Mu," Falcon replied. "As in _Siegel_ Clyne. She's his daughter, and one of the most respected figures in the PLANTs. I know her, slightly; as I said, she presented the Order of the Nebula to me, and as I recall, a member of my team was being considered for her bodyguard contingent."

Murrue finally shook herself out of the semi-stupor Lacus' appearance had put her in. "Ahem. Miss... Miss Clyne, would you please join me in my office, along my officers?"

Lacus nodded readily. "Yes, of course. I imagine we have a great deal to discuss." She looked over at the one-eyed pilot. "I would ask that Commander DiFalco be present, as well."

The Captain turned to Falcon, and, when he raised no objection, she nodded. "Very well. The rest of you, back to your duties. Chief Neumann, you have the Bridge."

"Aye, Ma'am." It was technically unusual for a noncommissioned to hold the watch, but since _Archangel_ had a grand total of three officers -at least, three _Earth Forces_ officers- due allowances were made.

As they began to make their way out of the hanger, Mu turned to Falcon. "So which member of your team was being considered for that assignment? Did I ever run into him?"

"Once," the pilot acknowledged. "At least, once that I can recall with certainty. His name's Lance Cooper, but everybody calls him Sparky; he was my XO, at Endymion and a couple of other places."

The Hawk raised an eyebrow. "Why do people call him Sparky?"

He could have sworn there was the faintest shadow of a smile on Falcon's face. "That's a long, interesting, and amusing story, Mu. Remind me to tell you sometime, when we're not as busy."

"Right..." _Sparky, huh? I bet that's quite the tale... I'm glad I never faced the guy directly; if he was a Gray Demon, and the XO, he wouldn't have been a pushover. Falcon didn't choose weaklings for _his_ team._

* * *

_Nacht Jaeger, _Bridge

* * *

Victor Tempest, alias Huckebein the Raven, sat in his chair, thinking, while his ship's captain conferred with the radio operator. _So, my orders are to kill Commander DiFalco... That suits me just fine. After all, _he_ killed_ me,_ last year... time to pay back that old debt. I'd have done it anyway, but his treason makes it more... legitimate. It'll be easier to explain to the Council, since they ordered it._

In actual fact, his orders were to, if at all possible, _capture_ the Grimaldi Falcon. But after being run through by his former commander, Huckebein had every intention of ensuring it was _not_ possible. He held grudges for a very long time... and, unbeknownst to his superiors or even himself, his mental stability was gradually eroding.

Captain Kreitzman finally looked up. "We've got a mission redirect, Commander," he announced.

Huckebein looked up. "We do? What might that be, Captain?"

"According to the message, it's only temporary, Sir," Kreitzman assured him. "But it seems Miss Lacus Clyne has gone missing, and we're to help look for her. Once her fate has been determined, we're to return to our original mission."

"I see." Behind the mask, Victor Tempest's single remaining eye narrowed, and his fist clenched unconsciously. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, Commander. We're to rendezvous with the _Vesalius,_ also on the search, and conduct operations in concert with her."

"I see," he said again. "Very well, inform the homeland that we acknowledge, and set a course to link up with _Vesalius."_

"Yes, Sir."

Tempest grimaced. On the subject of Rau Le Creuset, he and his old commander were in agreement. He hadn't been present for the disaster at Endymion -he'd been in intensive care, after getting his heart replaced- but he'd met the man before, and found him, among other things, decidedly creepy.

_Great,_ he thought in disgust._ Not only must settling the old score wait, but I have to operate with Rau Le Creuset. Oh, this is just a _wonderful_ day._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Captain's Office

* * *

"So you're really Siegel Clyne's daughter?" Mu asked, still a little off-balance. 

Lacus nodded. "Yes, I am. You've heard of my father, then?"

The Hawk darted an incredulous glance at Falcon, but his brother merely shrugged eloquently; apparently this apparent naiveté was not unusual for the girl.

_Though of course,_ Falcon thought to himself,_ I've always thought there was more to her than met the eye... I simply cannot believe Chairman Clyne's daughter could be so blind to the realities of the world... and war._

"Yes, we have," Murrue said, in answer to Lacus' question. "After all, the Earth Forces makes a habit of keeping an eye on what the PLANTs have to say." That was true enough; but Headquarters did it largely because they were waiting for the "so-called" Supreme Council to announce their surrender. _I Hope they're not holding their breath,_ she mused. _ZAFT still has the advantage in battle strength... and if Falcon's cryptic hints are any indication, they have some kind of master plan for victory._

"So," Natarle asked, "just what were you doing all the way out _here,_ of all places? I'd have thought someone like you would be in the PLANTs; this _is_ a war, after all."

Lacus nodded solemnly. "Yes, I know. And that's why I'm out here. Commander DiFalco, I believe, is already aware of my mission-" she received a minuscule nod from the pilot "-but I suppose others would not. I was sent out here for the preliminaries of a proper Bloody Valentine memorial ceremony. As you know, the anniversary is only eleven days from now."

"Yes," Falcon whispered. "We know."

"So how did you come to be in an escape pod?" Mu's brow furrowed. "I mean, if your ship had just encountered debris, one would think there'd be more lifepods out there."

Lacus sighed. "While we were beginning our survey, an Earth Forces vessel came alongside us, and demanded that we let them board for some kind of inspection. I saw no harm in it, since we had nothing to hide, so I permitted it. But... they wouldn't believe we were unarmed. The leader kept insisting we were a ZAFT vessel, and finally the arguing led to shooting, and a crew member shoved me into a lifepod. After that, I merely drifted until your machine found me." She looked anxiously at the deck. "I do hope that everything has calmed down, and that everyone is all right."

Falcon may have acted like an emotionless killing machine, but there was a heart, buried deep beneath the facade; and so he elected, for now, not to burden the "Princess of the PLANTs" with the knowledge that _Silverwind_ had been reduced to scrap.

He exchanged glances with Murrue, who finally nodded. "I see. Well, Miss Lacus, I'm sorry to hear about what happened; I'd be the first to admit that... not everyone in the Earth Forces is disposed towards giving PLANT delegations the benefit of the doubt. However, you'll have no such trouble from us; if for no other reason than the fact that Falcon has vouched for you. Now, I'm afraid it would be impractical at best to return you to ZAFT territory at this point, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to get you repatriated as soon as possible."

Lacus smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

"And now..." The Captain glanced at Falcon. "I'd like to offer you our ship's hospitality, until such time as you can be repatriated. Falcon here will escort you to guest quarters - assuming, of course, you have no objection, Falcon."

The pilot shook his head. "Not at all. I believe Miss Lacus and I have some things to discuss anyway."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Guest Quarters

* * *

"I must admit, Commander DiFalco," Lacus said, some minutes later, "that I was quite surprised to see you aboard this ship. When you were declared Absent Without Leave, it was assumed that the stress had finally caught up with you; that you'd snapped, and-" 

"And suicided," Falcon finished. "Yes, I know. Don't look so surprised, Miss Lacus; I still have my ways of getting information from the PLANTs, though my contacts regrettably don't have access to certain information." He shrugged. "I'm not surprised they came to that conclusion, after Junius Seven, Endymion, and the... project I was working on when I took my leave."

"I see." Her eyes narrowed with an uncharacteristic intensity. "But you know, if I was surprised to find you alive, I was even more surprised to learn you were on an Earth Forces vessel, fighting alongside them. They're obviously good people... but I would never have imagined you would willingly fight against ZAFT."

"Times change, Miss Lacus, and so do people." He idly fingered the hilt of his sword. "I cannot and will not give you all the details; I still have some respected for classifications, and I will not burden anyone else with my knowledge. But I swear to you, on my honor -or at least what's left of it- that I have _never_ betrayed the PLANTs. Circumstances -and Committee Chairman's Zala policies- have forced me into opposition to ZAFT, but even now, everything I do is for the sake of the PLANTs."

"I don't understand." Lacus frowned. "What policies? What circumstances?"

"I can't tell you that." _Great,_ he griped at himself. _How in the world do you intend to convince her you're still fighting for the PLANTs when you can't even tell her why you left ZAFT?_ "Okay," Falcon said finally. "Let me ask you something: do you know a fellow named Lance Cooper?"

She nodded. "Commander Cooper? Of course; he heads my family's bodyguard now, and has since a little after you left."

He nodded to himself. "Sparky made commander? That's good; he deserved it, though I imagine some will regard him with a certain amount of suspicion, now that my whereabouts are known. Anyway, when you get back to the PLANTs, I suggest you talk to him; what I _can_ say, he can verify, and he might even be in a better position to explain why I acted as I did, Miss Lacus."

Lacus made a snap decision then. _This is the Grimaldi Falcon, and he appears sane enough; if anyone can be trusted, he can._

"Please," she said aloud, "just call me Lacus. If you are no longer a commander, then I see no reason to stand on ceremony. Besides," she added with a smile, "it will make conversation less of a chore."

It amazed Falcon that Lacus was so much at ease, despite his basilisk act; on the other hand, now that he thought about it, she'd known him before he took on the emotionless facade, and however naive she might appear, she knew people. She could probably read him like an open book.

"Thank you," he said simply. "It _is_ a little cumbersome, speaking that way. Anyway, here is what I _can_ tell you: Committee Chairman Zala's policies are leading us someplace we do not want to go; a place of ruin, beyond belief."

Lacus gazed at him intently. "Are you saying ZAFT will lose this war?"

"No." Falcon shook his head emphatically. "The Revolution has already succeeded, Lacus; even had the Earth Forces kept all six prototypes, I don't think it could be stopped, in the end. But it is my belief Zala desires more than mere victory. I believe he desires the extinction of all Naturals."

She gasped. "You can't be serious!"

"Believe me, I wish I wasn't. But you forget, I grew to know the man well in the last few months I was with ZAFT; after the Bloody Valentine, he grew obsessed, and now the independence of the PLANTs is no longer enough for him."

Lacus shook her head. "But he can't possibly have the capability to do that. The Naturals are so numerous there's no way we could destroy all of them, even if we wanted to."

Falcon closed his eye. "I wish, Lacus. I really do. And you're right, ZAFT _doesn't_ have the capability to commit such mass genocide... yet. But they're working on it, and it's only a matter of time before they succeed; probably not even very much time, now that they have the four Earth Forces G-weapons to play with. If their engineers are as good as I remember, they'll be able to reverse engineer the machines' capabilities within a couple of months, and then build on the new discoveries; once they do that, nothing can stop the final weapon from becoming a reality."

She began to think that if this kept up, she'd get a headache. _Just what is he talking about?_ she wondered. _Final weapon? Athrun's father attempting genocide? What does it all mean?_

"I don't understand," she said aloud. "What weapon could possibly accomplish that?"

"Nothing that works right now," Falcon admitted. "But think about it: enough nuclear weapons could blast the entire planet back into the Stone Age, and if you synthesized, oh, a few tons of antimatter -which is _not_ out of the question, assuming you have access to nuclear powerplants- you could blow up Earth quite nicely." He shook his head. _Idiot; you're talking too much._

_Symptom of the situation,_ a part of his mind replied._ You've gotten so used to worrying about doomsday weapons you start to ramble about them; not a good thing for someone trying to keep up certain appearances._

"Look," he said finally. "I realize this sounds unbelievable -six months ago, _I_ wouldn't have believed it, either- and I probably shouldn't say anything more, either. In fact, I've probably said too much. So I have to ask you to trust me; remember my actions since the Mandelbrot Incident in 68, and decide, here and now, if I can be trusted."

Lacus fully realized, then, that Ken DiFalco was being deadly serious. Behind the emotionless facade, he was absolutely terrified of something... and that something had driven him to abandon everything he once held dear, even to fight and kill his own comrades and friends in order to achieve whatever mad objective he had set himself.

He now walked a lonely road, one where he had to keep his eyes open, for his friend of yesterday had become his enemy today, and his enemy had become his only friend. He foresaw a calamity no one else did, which put him, and him alone, in a position to do something about it.

This was a driven man, Lacus realized. Obsessed, perhaps; and, just possibly, beginning to walk the road toward madness, as he faced his lonely journey. But he had set himself a task, of protecting that which he held most dear, and he would not swerve from it, even if the path ended with him lying dead in the dusty battlefields, remembered only as a traitor. _He'd accept that,_ Lacus thought, _if only he achieved his goal first. And now, all he asks is my trust... and if I give it to him, perhaps his burden may be eased..._

"All right, Commander," she said at last. "I trust you. What is it that you need of me? I'll help in any way I can."

Falcon seemed to sag in relief; clearly, he was under a great deal more stress than was apparent. "For now, Lacus," he said wearily, "there's nothing you can do; not while you're stuck aboard the _Archangel._ But when you leave... I may have some data to send with you, and all I ask in that event is that you get it to Sparky; he'll know what to do with it from there."

"I'll do what I can," Lacus promised. "I don't understand exactly what's going on, but you are clearly still the good person you always were, Commander; if you say there is danger, I believe you."

He seemed to sag even further. "Thank you."

* * *

_Archangel, _Corridor

* * *

When Falcon finally left Lacus' quarters, it was with every intention of heading straight to his and getting some rest. He hadn't felt this tired since basic training, years before. 

Mu spotted him along the way. "Hey, Falcon! You look beat; have an interesting time with the Pink Princess back there?"

Falcon sighed. "Mu," he began, in a voice that sounded only slightly different from his usual tonelessness, "I will tolerate a great many things from people. But I will not tolerate bad puns or constant innuendo and double entendres. I suggest you take heed, before I am forced to try something drastic."

The Hawk smiled. "Like what?"

Falcon gazed at him tiredly. "You _do_ know what happens when sharp steel meets human flesh, don't you?"

Mu winced, remembering his brother's reputation with a sword. "Right. Well, anyway, I was hoping I'd run into you; I've got something for you." He took a bundle from under his arm, and tossed it over.

The ex-ZAFT ace caught it, and unfolded it. It was a gray trench coat, with feathers on the collar, and no insignia. "A trench coat," he murmured, too tired to say anything other than the obvious. "Why?"

Mu grinned. "Hey, the Grimaldi Falcon ain't the Grimaldi Falcon without his idiosyncrasies, now is he? Kira mentioned you used to wear one on Heliopolis, and it seems to be MIA; besides, I know you don't like being seen in public in Earth Forces uniform, so I had Murdoch's people put that together, from stores. After all, we're not exactly short on _uniform_ material."

Nodding absently, Falcon pulled on the coat, and noted it covered his sword, as his old one had. "Thanks," he said quietly. "My former coat, the one I wore while I was still with the Gray Demons, got incinerated on Heliopolis, during the attack; I'll admit I haven't felt quite right without it." He wearily shook his head. "If you'll excuse me, Mu, I really need some rest; it's been a long few months."

"Yeah, sure. Oh, by the way, the Captain'll want you on the Bridge when you're awake; now that we have supplies, we need to plan our next move."

"Roger that."

Falcon stumbled off to his quarters, feeling severely blitzed. Once inside, he collapsed on the bunk, not even bothering to remove the trench coat.

As the fog of sleep filled his mind, a trace of memory came to him, from what felt like a lifetime ago. _"You've gone too far, Patrick. Too far!"_

* * *

_"How is the project going, Falcon?" National Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala asked, sounding slightly distracted; sitting at his desk, he was also perusing intelligence reports._

_"On schedule, Patrick," Commander Kenneth DiFalco responded; he was one of a very small number of people on a first-name basis with Zala, having climbed from obscurity as an "average" pilot to being one of the most influential men in ZAFT, despite his absurdly young age. "Though you do realize that, until the N-jammer cancellers are developed, this machine is nothing more than a gigantic waste of funds."_

_"We've been over that before," Zala replied patiently (far more patiently than he would have answered anyone else, but then Falcon's contributions to the war made him a man worth listening to). "We've made their development a crash priority project. It's only a matter of time before we have them, and in the meantime, there's no sense in wasting time by waiting on constructing that weapon."_

_"True," Falcon conceded. "And we can use the time to refine the design even more, particularly if the rumors about the Earth Forces' new breakthroughs is correct, and we can acquire samples of the technology. But for now, it's nothing more than a spaceborne collection of metal, mirrors, and utterly useless fissionable material."_

_"You can't deny the potential of that weapon, Falcon; and it _was_ you that devised the basic strategies for its use."_

_"Granted. And, to be sure, I'll sleep more soundly once we have something that can truly defend the PLANTs from an Earth Forces attack." The pilot's face hardened. "There will never be another Junius Seven, if there's anything_ I_ can say about it."_

_"Agreed," Zala said, voice as hard as his subordinate's expression. "We cannot forgive them for the Bloody Valentine... ever."_

_Falcon's head jerked up, as something in his superior's voice set off warning bells in his mind. "Just what plan _are_ you using for GENESIS' deployment, Patrick?" he said slowly._

_Zala handed him a folder. "Take a look, Falcon; and if you have any refinements to make to your old battle plan, now might be the time."_

_The pilot glanced through the files, face at first impassive... then increasingly alarmed. "You can't be serious!" he blurted, at the end. "That goes far beyond anything we ever discussed with the Council, Patrick!"_

_Patrick, who had lost his wife Lenore in the Bloody Valentine, shrugged. "Since when do we discuss every aspect of the campaigns with the politicians? You know as well as I what political micro-managing does to a war effort; weren't you the one who used the example of the Vietnam War, at the start of the war?" That had been in an intra-ZAFT paper Falcon had written, before he gained notoriety._

_"Yes, I was, but this...!" Falcon threw down the campaign strategy and stared at Zala. "You can't possibly be suggesting we use it on _any_ civilian population center, let alone-!"_

_"Now is not the time for sensitivity, Falcon, and you know it as well as I." The Committee Chairman looked coldly at his top strategist. "This is why you were transferred from the frontlines, Falcon; this project has to be completed, and you're the only one who is both familiar with the mechanism's design and fully trustworthy that I can put in charge of it. And it's not as if I intend to use it at all unless I have a choice, so go do your duty."_

_Commander Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco, soldier of the Revolution, continued to stare at Zala, as he began to realize just what truly lay behind Patrick's eyes._ He may claim to consider it a last resort,_ he realized in a flash,_ but after the Bloody Valentine, he's determined to make it a necessity... and I gave him the tools to do it.

Falcon clenched his fists. "You've gone too far, Patrick. Too far!" Without another word, he stalked out of the office.

The date was September 20, C.E. 70. The next day, the Grimaldi Falcon vanished, leaving chaos in his wake as lesser strategists and engineers attempted to fill the void created by his absence, and taking with him crucial data, massive guilt, and a brilliant mind.

The Earth Alliance had already lost, from a practical standpoint. The Revolution was already won. But now, Patrick Zala, by driving Kenneth DiFalco to treason, unknowingly set ZAFT upon the path that would lead to their ruin.

* * *

Aprilius One, Patrick Zala's Office

* * *

Patrick Zala remembered that day well. It was, unfortunately, the first sign he'd had that Falcon was no longer reliable; they'd never had such a disagreement on policy before. 

_My fault for investing too much trust in him too soon,_ he thought ironically._ I should have remembered that his sister's a Natural; maybe then I would have been prepared for this._

Falcon's desertion, while startling, had not induced much more than anger and disgust in Zala. News of his defection to the Earth Forces, though... _that_ scared him. He didn't think the traitor knew how to circumvent his own plans, fortunately; and even if he did, Zala considered it unlikely that the Earth Forces would trust him far enough to act on the information. But his knowledge of the final option was another matter entirely. That, along with his sheer brilliance, both in piloting and planning, made him a great threat to ZAFT's goals.

Yes, the man was brilliant; only Andrew Waltfeld came even close to matching him, and his insistence on carrying out his own plans, sharing the risks with the troops, made him _very_ popular with his people.

There was, however, one former Gray Demon who hated Falcon's guts, and Zala was counting on Victor "Huckebein" Tempest to get the job done... as soon as he finished the search for Lacus Clyne. Once that was accomplished, Falcon's days would be... well, if not numbered, then at least in grave danger.

At any rate, there was no chance of Falcon intervening in the next operation. The plans Zala was looking over now were for an upcoming assault on Africa's Victoria Spaceport, to complete Operation Uroboros' initial objective at last. Interestingly, it was Falcon himself who had crafted this plan... as well as another that would be set into motion as soon as it received approval from the Supreme Council, which Zala was confident it would within a month, or perhaps two.

_By then,_ he thought,_ Falcon should no longer be a factor. Perhaps he'll be kind enough to take Huckebein with him; the man is becoming a liability..._

* * *

_Archangel, _Cafeteria

* * *

Tolle walked into the cafeteria, and found himself right in the midst of an argument. _Huh?_ he thought, seeing Mir and Flay matching wills. _What's going on here?_

"Look, Flay," Mir was saying, "all I'm asking is-"

"No!" Flay said vehemently. "I don't want to go anywhere _near_ that girl!"

Tolle sidled over to Kuzzey. "Okay, I give," he said in a low voice. "Just what in the world are they arguing about? Who's 'that girl'?"

"Lacus Clyne," Kuzzey replied quietly. "Miriallia asked Flay to take a meal to her, but Flay refuses. She sounds like she's scared."

"Of _what?"_

Mir now tried a different tack. "What's the problem, anyway? All I'm asking is for you to take a meal to her; what's wrong with that?"

"I'm scared," Flay replied bluntly. "She's a Coordinator, from the PLANTs! What if tries to attack me?"

"And _why_ would she do that?" Mir demanded. "She's not military, Flay; even if she _did_ attack you, what good would it do? Besides, Falcon vouches for her."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?" Flay retorted. "Falcon's a ZAFT pilot-"

_"Former_ ZAFT," Tolle muttered under his breath.

"-and he used to fly against Lieutenant La Flaga. Are you trying to tell me we can trust _him?"_

Mir's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you ever talk about him like that again, Flay Allster! Falcon has this worse than any of us, you know. _We_ may have lost Heliopolis, but in case you didn't hear, Falcon's from Junius Seven; _and_ he had to give up everything he knew to do what he knew was right! And if you still doubt him, remember that he killed two of his former teammates on Heliopolis, which isn't something a ZAFT spy would do!"

Tolle and Kuzzey stared at her, startled by her vehemence, while Flay physically recoiled. "Still..." the red-haired girl said stubbornly. "We don't really know anything about her; what if she's really strong or something?"

"My," said another voice, "who's really strong?"

Flay spun around, to find herself face-to-face with Lacus Clyne herself. "Wha-?"

Kira entered a couple of steps behind the pink princess. "What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

"I was hungry," Lacus replied, "and there was no one around, so I decided to come here myself; I did _try_ to get someone's attention, but..." She shrugged, and turned to Flay. "My name is Lacus Clyne, by the way," she said, extending her hand.

Tolle had merely thought Flay recoiled from Mir's words. Her reaction this time was far worse. "Stay away!" she shouted, jerking backwards. "Don't get anywhere near me!"

"I don't understand," Lacus said, confused. "There's nothing to be afraid of; I'm not in the military, you know..."

"Why should I trust a Coordinator?" Flay demanded. "Just stay away! I don't want any of your Coordinators acting friendly with me!"

The room was a frozen tableau for several moments, until Kira finally touched Lacus' arm. "I think maybe I should take you back to your quarters," he suggested quietly. He had an ulterior motive: _he_ didn't want to be around Flay in this kind of mood, either, and her words had badly shaken him.

"Yes, of course," Lacus murmured, still puzzled, and allowed Kira to show her out.

Mir promptly stormed out as well; Tolle wasn't sure if she was more irritated by Flay's reaction to Lacus, or her slur against Falcon's integrity. Either way, she was in a most foul mood.

Flay, meanwhile, glared at the bulkhead in silence, while Tolle and Kuzzey looked on.

Finally, the black-haired volunteer ventured a few words. "Flay... that sounded like something from Blue Cosmos. Are you...?"

"I am _not_ a member of Blue Cosmos!" she snapped back. "But the stance those people take... I don't think they're entirely wrong. Having your genes operated on when you're not sick or anything... it goes against what Nature intended." She scowled. "That Falcon guy is an example; something about him always gives me the creeps."

Tolle wondered about that. He, too, had noticed something strange about the one-eyed pilot, his cool and unflappable manner even in the most dire of situations... and that eyepatch of his always unsettled him somehow...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, February 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

"Man, oh man..." Mu murmured, drifting near the starboard bulkhead. "We solve the problem of the supplies, then get another in the form of the pink princess. Wonders never cease, eh?" 

"Unfortunately," Murrue said dryly. "I wouldn't want her to still be out there, stuck in a lifepod in the Debris Belt, but I must confess I could have done quite happily without this complication."

"Agreed," Falcon said quietly. He had tucked himself into a corner, wrapped in his new trench coat; Sophia had commented it was the first time since he'd come aboard that he hadn't looked like some kind of space alien to her. As near as he could determine, she meant it looked natural on him.

He was still trying to decide if it had been a complement, though.

"Now we just need to figure out what to do with her," Sophia mused, pensive. "I mean, no offense, my friend," she said to Murrue, "but _Archangel_'s pretty unusual, when it comes to the crew's attitudes toward Coordinators. Most crews would happily slit her throat, just for being what she is."

Murrue frowned. "I think you're being unduly pessimistic, Sophia."

"No, she's not," Natarle broke in. "If anything, she's understating the matter. I don't know if Blue Cosmos actually has any official involvement in running this war, but there's no denying their attitudes have spread far and wide throughout the military. Someone like Lacus Clyne..."

"...They'd welcome with open arms," Mu finished for her. "Don't look at me like that, Ensign. Just think about it: she's the daughter of the Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council; you bring her to Ptolemaeus, and Headquarters will fall all over themselves making her at home... for propaganda purposes, of course."

"I don't want her to go through that," Murrue said pensively. "She's just a teenage girl, with no connection to the war effort at all; she doesn't deserve to be put through something like that."

"I agree," Falcon told her, "but you're wrong on one count: she has a great deal to do with the war effort. Believe me, I know, from my days in ZAFT: she is probably the best morale-building tool they have." He rubbed his eyepatch. "Though I'd hesitate to call her a 'tool' in the first place; she may seem naive at times, but she's got a sharp mind in there, no mistake."

She nodded. "Agreed. But I still don't want her, a young civilian, to get caught up in all this..."

"So what about those students?" Natarle asked. "They've helped with the operation of the ship, and even fought with us in battle, yet they too are just young civilians."

"One difference, Ensign," Falcon said quietly. "They volunteered."

Those two, simple words effectively put an end to _that_ line of reasoning, and silence fell for a time.

It was finally interrupted by Pal's sudden grunt of surprise and rapid typing at the communications station. "Captain!" he called. "We're receiving a coded message; it's definitely from the Eighth Fleet. No doubt about it!"

Mu and Murrue quickly moved to his side. "You're right," the Captain said, suddenly feeling hopeful. "That's from the _Montgomery,_ Captain Koopman's ship!"

Sophia perked up. "Koopman? I've served with him. Not brilliant, but-"

"But not stupid, either." Falcon nodded. "I fought against him at Jachin. I don't think he's very bright, but I've encountered dumber."

Murrue wasn't sure if that was intended to be a compliment, but suddenly she didn't care. At last, for the first time since Heliopolis -Artemis didn't really count, given what had happened there- they'd received word from friendly forces.

Things were beginning to look up at last.

* * *

Author's note: Lacus Clyne has joined the ship, and a little more of Falcon's final days with ZAFT comes to light. Now his former subordinate and friend is out for blood; how long before they have another -violent- confrontation? 

Infinite Freedom, I'm not exactly sure what you mean by my being predictable, but I'll let it pass.

As I said, I shan't reveal much about the mobile suits that will be appearing in A Call to Arms, but I will say you're not too far off the mark…

As to your last question, no, I'm afraid I don't have any advice.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I have no idea how many chapters this story will require; but, going by the number so far, I expect it'll be longer than Brothers in Arms.

Centurious, I don't really expect the Astray series to be very pertinent to most of this story; but I will note that the Junk Guild will play a minor role later on.

Daniel Lynx, you're correct that Falcon will be mostly using Raptor; but his CGUE _does_ have a purpose, down the line.

As for Tempest… that's spoken of here, but the full explanation won't be till a little later.

Ominae, there will indeed be some ZAFT machine versus ZAFT machine combat later on, but I won't mention any details here. It will be an important plot point…

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, glad you liked it. That scene was something I kind of had to put in, since Falcon is _from_ Junius Seven.

NukeDawg, you're not the only one looking forward to A Call to Arms. Birds of a Feather is fun to write, but it doesn't have quite the magic of Kevin Walker's saga.

RVD, you're quite correct in saying _almost_ all of it; the time has not yet come for Falcon's secrets to be revealed…

Seems to be everything; let me know what you think. -Solid Shark


	7. Chapter 7: Falcon vs Raven

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, February 7th, C.E. 71

* * *

As the rendezvous with the advance force from the Eighth Fleet approached, Falcon remained on the Bridge, feeling tense. _The _Archangel_ is one thing,_ he thought. _With Mu La Flaga, Murrue Ramius, and Sophia aboard, there was never any real doubt I'd be accepted without much trouble. But a whole other fleet, especially with Augustus Koopman... this could be problematic._

Indeed, it could be _very_ problematic. He was ex-ZAFT, one of their most famous pilots, amidst a gaggle of Earth Forces personnel. _Or would that be a murder,_ Falcon mused. _Like a murder of crows..._

"You okay, Falcon?" Murrue asked, concerned. "You... look a little nervous." It wasn't his expression; even if he'd been facing her, it was as inscrutable as ever. But his body language hinted at tension, a subtle tightening of the muscles. By now, she'd gotten to know the new Ken DiFalco well enough to recognize the signs.

"Could be worse, Murrue," Falcon said calmly. "But I'll admit I'm not looking forward to the rendezvous; my presence will not be easy to explain."

"I know," she said sympathetically. "But if they make any trouble, I assure you we'll all back you up; it's the least we can do."

"Thanks." He turned, nodding with just a trace of gratitude, which was itself surprising; it was rare to see him display even that much emotion.

_Perhaps he's finally beginning to feel comfortable here,_ Murrue thought._ It can't have been easy for him, fighting ZAFT; especially with his best friend out there._ The fact that he _had_ a best friend indicated that there was a heart buried inside there somewhere, deep down._ Not that Sophia would admit the possibility._

Sophia DiFalco still referred to her adopted brother as the "Iron Eagle" on occasion, though never to his face; and she still maintained that he was as warm and fuzzy as a porcupine, with all the warm feelings of a dead fish.

_I disagree,_ she thought, glancing at Sophia's silent presence at that rear of the Bridge. She looked pensive, as she often did these days; to Murrue it seemed as if her friend hadn't been acting normally since Falcon came aboard._ I'll have to ask her about that one of these days. Something's bothering her about Falcon, and I want to know why._ Not just for the sake of the ship -should it be something dangerous, at any rate- but also because she'd become quite fond of the pilot. The talent he shared with Mu -making the impossible possible- had saved her life more than once by now, and Falcon's loyalty to those with whom he fought -and carefully-hidden pain at fighting his comrades- made him a welcome presence aboard the ship.

"We're in transmission range of the advance force, Ma'am," Kuzzey called. "They're requesting authentication codes."

"Transmit them," Murrue ordered, and turned to Mu. "Well, at least this time we're dealing with people who know who we are."

He nodded. "Yeah; I'd hate to have a repeat of Artemis," he added, glancing at Falcon. "By the way, what happened to Garcia, in the end?"

"I assume he died," the one-eyed pilot answered. "I locked him in a janitorial closet, and I'm pretty sure the area took a direct hit." He lifted an eyebrow. "Think they'll try to prosecute me for that?"

"Why would they?" The Hawk chuckled. _"You_ didn't kill him; and besides, even if he'd lived, I suspect the good admiral would have been in for a court martial... one which he'd have lost, once our testimony entered the equation. There's not much doubt as to what happened... As I recall, the only complaint was from Murdoch's people, because of the gore you left in the cafeteria."

"I stabbed one man through the spine and broke the other's neck," Falcon said coolly. "There couldn't have been _that_ much to clean up." He didn't add that the head nearest the cafeteria had gotten off lightly; the other times he'd used the blade to kill, it had made him violently ill. _I guess it's true what they say,_ he mused. _Killing _does_ get easier the more you do it._

Some would think he'd have learned that while still flying with ZAFT, but the fact is, pilots don't think like that. When they go into battle, they don't see themselves as killing other people. They see other craft as machines, not vehicles crewed by real people; an impersonal form of warfare, which some envied for its lack of psychological baggage, and others hated for the same reason.

_"Montgomery_ accepts our codes, Ma'am," Kuzzey reported. "They're now requesting our crew, casualty, and passenger lists."

"Acknowledged," Murrue replied. "Send them." She turned to Falcon. "Well, now the moment of truth. I'd expect they'll recognize your name; but on the other hand, neither Sophia nor I realized you were the Grimaldi Falcon, so maybe they'll let it pass."

"If they don't," he said, thinking, "there's something that might change their minds in a hurry." He did not choose to elaborate.

Several minutes of silence passed, until Kuzzey spoke up again. "Captain Koopman is asking for direct communications, Ma'am. He also says he has Vice Foreign Minister Allster with him."

Mu raised his eyebrows. "Flay Allster's father? Huh. Figures he'd find a way out here." He shared a glance with Falcon, and noted that his brother didn't seem to have a high opinion of the Vice Minister.

"Put him on," Murrue ordered. When the captain appeared on screen, she saluted. "Hello, Captain. It's good to see a friendly face again."

_"I'm sure, Captain Ramius,"_ Koopman acknowledged._ "From your casualty figures -and manifest- it looks like you've had quite the trip, since Heliopolis."_

She nodded. "Yes, Sir, we have, and we're looking forward to reaching Earth Alliance territory."

_"It won't be long now. We're to escort you to the rest of the Eighth Fleet; Admiral Halberton is waiting, and very relieved to hear of your survival."_ The man frowned, glancing at Falcon. _"I recognize Lieutenant La Flaga, but who might this be?"_

"Ken DiFalco," Murrue answered. "Lieutenant DiFalco's brother." She figured the explanation of Falcon's true parentage could wait, for the time being.

Koopman drew back in surprise. _"Ken DiFalco? The Grimaldi Falcon? What's he doing there?"_

"It's a long story, Captain," Mu told him. "But I assure you, Commander DiFalco is no longer with ZAFT, as our battle records will show you."

The man seated next to Koopman -clearly George Allster- was far less sanguine than his military counterpart. _"A ZAFT pilot, on the same ship as my daughter? Why is he being allowed to go about unfettered, Captain Ramius; let alone on your Bridge?"_

Murrue's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Vice Minister, Commander DiFalco is-"

She stopped when Falcon raised a hand. "Captain Koopman," he said calmly, "I have a message I'd like you to pass on to Admiral Halberton."

His interruption was enough to cut off Allster's bourgeoning tirade, and puzzle Koopman. _"What message might that be, Commander?"_ He was sufficiently off-balance to use Falcon's ZAFT rank without thinking.

"Tell him he still owes the guy from the blockade ten bucks and a new machine gun," Falcon answered. "He'll understand."

_The Admiral might,_ Koopman thought,_ but I don't. Well, no harm in it; maybe it actually means something._

_"Very well, Commander,"_ he said finally._ "I'll pass it on."_

Allster, even more perplexed than Koopman, finally decided to ignore the exchange. _"By the way, Captain Ramius,"_ he began, _"I couldn't help but notice from your passenger list that -as I mentioned a moment ago- my daughter happens to be on your ship. I'd like to arrange to meet with her as soon as possible..."_

_"Military considerations, I'm afraid, come first at the moment, Vice Minister,"_ Koopman reminded him._ "You'll recall that the _Archangel_ carries what is right now our best hope of ending this war."_

_"Yes, of course,"_ Allster said hastily._ "But when it's possible..."_

In CIC, Sai exchanged amused glances with Mir. "Yeah," he said softly, "that's Flay's father, all right. She'll be happy."

"Yeah," Mir agreed.

A few minutes later, the link with _Montgomery_ was cut, and Murrue turned to Falcon. "Just what was that about, anyway?" she asked. "Do you know Admiral Halberton?"

His lips twitched, so subtly she wasn't sure if she'd actually seen it. "Let's just say, Murrue," he said easily, "that the Admiral was once a mobile armor pilot; and that during the -failed- attempt at a blockade on the PLANTs in 69, he was a squadron commander." He shrugged. "Beyond that... I suggest you ask him. In any case, he'll know what I'm talking about; kind of hard to forget."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Kira sat in the Strike's cockpit, typing rapidly; there were a few improvements he'd thought of, and was now adding them to the machine's OS. 

Kojiro Murdoch, passing by on a routine inspection, heard the distinctive sound, and stuck his head through the hatch. "Huh," he said to himself, unable to see the screen from his position. "Wonder what's up this time?" He'd more than once found the kid in here at odd hours, forever tweaking his machine's software.

Kira finally noticed the mechanic's presence, and pushed the screen aside. "Is something up?" he asked.

"Nah," Murdoch replied. "Just wondering what you're up to. Tweaking the operating system again?"

The pilot nodded. "Yeah. Mostly just routine stuff, but I also had a few improvements to make. Uh..." He glanced around. "Guess it was unnecessary," he finished sheepishly. "I mean, we just made rendezvous with the advance force, so..."

Murdoch grinned. "Just keep doing what you're doing, kid. It's still your job, for a few more hours, anyway." The grin grew wider. "You know, you're pretty good at this stuff; you could always enlist, if you want to keep at it." Without waiting for a response, the mechanic left, chuckling to himself.

Kira waited till he was gone, then snorted to himself. "Not a chance."

"A pity," a calm voice said.

He looked up quickly. "Commander?"

Falcon floated just outside the hatch, arms crossed. "You know, Kira, I seem to remember telling you not to call me that. I'm not a commander of anything anymore, remember."

"Sorry."

"Forget it," the ace said easily, waving a hand. "I can't get Ensign Badgiruel to stop, either, and I'll grant it's better than the way my sister treats me. For some reason, she seems to be afraid of me; possibly because I nearly blew her away at Jachin." He scowled almost imperceptibly. "These days I almost wish I'd succeeded."

"Uh, right..." _Maybe I shouldn't ask about that,_ Kira thought. _There's something between those two I just don't want anything to do with._ "What did you mean, a pity?" he said aloud.

"You could do a lot of good in this war, Kira," Falcon told him. "Like Mu said, the day we came aboard: you have the power to make a difference. There aren't that many people who can make the same claim." He tapped his chin. "This war will be decided by a handful of individuals, if I read things right; and I can think of worse individuals for the job than you."

"But I don't _want_ anything to do with this war," Kira said, irritated. "This isn't my war; not for any of us who were on Heliopolis."

"I thought I told you before, Kira: this is everybody's war now. By attacking Heliopolis, ZAFT made this Orb's conflict, too, whether they like it or not; and I don't imagine the Equatorial Union or the Kingdom of Scandinavia will be able to stay out of it more than a few months longer, either."

"That doesn't mean _I_ have to have any part in it," the younger Coordinator said stubbornly.

"You've already played a role in this war," Falcon told him bluntly. "You think ZAFT will just forget about you once you leave? Maybe they will, maybe they won't; personally, _I'd_ just let bygones be bygones, but that's not how the Patrick I know operates."

Kira blinked. "Patrick?"

"Patrick Zala," the ace clarified. "Yes, I was on first-name basis with your friend's father; and I assure you, these days I regret it."

"So _you_ have the power to make a difference, don't you?" Kira tilted his head. "Why me?"

Falcon surprised him by actually letting out a humorless laugh. "The power to make a difference? Oh, sure, I made a difference; only the 'difference' may mean the end of the human race. I helped Patrick along on his road to genocide, a fact that will haunt me to my grave. And _that,_ Kira," he said, voice sharpening, "is why it's a pity you're leaving. You might be able to do something to compensate for my grievous error; more than I ever could, I'm sure."

"It's my choice, Falcon," Kira reminded him. "I don't want to be in this war, and I'm getting out as soon as we reach the Fleet."

"You're right," the one-eyed pilot agreed. "It _is_ your choice, and whatever choice you make, I'll make sure those vultures in the Earth Forces don't interfere. And to honest, I don't blame you. After leaving ZAFT, _I_ tried to stay out of it, too; I hope you have more success than I."

"Thanks." The younger man raised an eyebrow. "So, what are _you_ going to do, when we reach Earth? It can't be an easy choice for you, either..."

"It's not," Falcon admitted. "In fact, it's the hardest choice I've ever had to make. No, not hard," he corrected himself. "The decision is easy; it's living with it that's hard." He squared his shoulders. "When we rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet, I'll offer my services to Admiral Halberton, on the condition that I not be asked to reveal anything that could facilitate a direct attack on the PLANTs."

"And you think they'll accept that?" Kira was openly skeptical. "What kind of use would they have for you, then?"

"Plenty; especially if they want me to go after Rau Le Creuset. And yes, they'll accept it; or at least Halberton will." Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "I'm... acquainted with the admiral, and I think he'll understand my position. Say this for the man, he doesn't have anything against Coordinators in general."

"So you'll keep fighting your comrades." It wasn't a question.

"I don't have a choice." The one-eyed pilot sighed. "Kira, one day you'll understand that when there are things in this world you want to protect, sometimes you have to fight for them, no matter what the circumstances... no matter what the cost. I fight to prevent another Bloody Valentine... and something far worse. I fight for peace, and most of all, I fight for the safety and independence of the homeland."

"Huh..."

_This is a pretty driven guy,_ Kira thought._ I've never seen anyone so devoted to a cause that he gives up everything else... even his friends._ He swallowed, thinking of Athrun._ Maybe that's the only way you fight a war; maybe it's even the only way to protect those who matter to you. But if it is, then I don't want to be a soldier._

"I don't envy you," he said frankly.

"I don't envy me either," Falcon said dryly. "If I had my choice, I'd still be wearing ZAFT red. But since I don't... I fight for the PLANTs in the only way I can. Just as you follow your own path in life." He raised his hand in a salute. "I don't know where your path will lead you, Kira, but I wish you the best of luck."

Kira found himself returning the salute, awkwardly. "You too, Falcon."

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"Well, this is interesting..." Rau Le Creuset murmured, staring down at the main display. "I do believe we've picked up the legged ship's trail. How interesting indeed, considering our mission has nothing to do with her..." 

"A pity we can't do anything about it now," Captain Ades said, stroking his chin. "Now that we've rebuilt our mobile suit complement, and joined up with the _Nacht Jaeger,_ we might actually have a chance of taking her, even with the advance forces helping them out."

His superior glanced at him. "What makes you think we can't do anything about it, Ades? We can easily catch up with them from here."

Athrun, also present, looked up. "But, Commander, aren't our orders-?"

"To search for your fiancé, Miss Clyne," Le Creuset finished for him. "Yes, Athrun, I'm well aware of our orders. However, it's not as if we can just let the legged ship go, now that we've found her. Miss Clyne has waited a few days; a few hours more, if she's even still alive, won't matter much." He turned to another display. "Commander Huckebein? Do you concur?"

_"Absolutely,"_ the other masked commander replied coldly._ "I won't lie to you, Commander Le Creuset; my own motives for attacking the legged ship aren't exactly duty to the PLANTs. I want the Grimaldi Falcon, as you well know."_

"Yes, I remember how he killed you, last year..." Le Creuset didn't add that he felt it was a mistake to bring Victor Tempest back; little though he cared for the Grimaldi Falcon -and vice-versa- Rau was in complete agreement with his actions in that particular instance. Tempest had been the aggressor, and thus signed his own death warrant; they should have let his brain activity fade completely, instead of bringing him back when he was still merely clinically dead. "Nonetheless, Commander," he went on, "I suggest you not let your emotions get in the way, or Commander DiFalco _will_ kill you. The moment he realizes just who you are, I have little doubt that's exactly what he'll be trying to do."

_"Let him,"_ Huckebein said flatly._ "He may have one of the new Earth Forces machines, but our engineers have already reverse-engineered much of the technology from the units we captured. It's still in the early prototype stage, but Command deemed it appropriate to assign me a CGUE DEEP Arms, for combat trials."_

Le Creuset nodded, thoughtful. "Prudent; a standard CGUE would do little against Phase-shift. I was not, however, aware that any DEEP Arms units had yet been produced."

_"This is the first,"_ the young commander informed him._ "I have every intention of ensuring that the first kill by one of these units is a worthy one. The Grimaldi Falcon will not be permitted to survive."_

"Uh, Commander..." Athrun began hesitantly. "You are aware that our orders are to, if at all possible, _capture_ Commander DiFalco, correct?"

_"You don't have to remind me of my duty, Zala,"_ Huckebein informed him._ "But trust me: once Commander DiFalco realizes I'm out here, it _won't_ be possible to take him alive. He hates my guts; and I have no doubt he'll try to kill me, which will require me to act in self-defense... as efficiently as necessary."_

Le Creuset wasn't fooled for an instant. _More likely as efficiently as possible,_ he reflected. _Well, I somehow doubt Committee Chairman Zala would mourn the Grimaldi Falcon's death that greatly, but the man still needs to be given a chance..._ He shrugged mentally. _There are ways of keeping Victor Tempest in check; for now what matters is dealing with the legged ship, and _that_ is a task for which he is eminently suited._

"Then it's settled," Le Creuset said at last. "We launch the attack, destroy the legged ship and the advance forces, then return to our search for Miss Clyne. Captain Ades, begin preparations at once."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"We're approaching rendezvous, Ma'am," Neumann reported. "It won't be long now." 

Murrue checked the plot for herself, and noted the ETA. "A couple of minutes," she murmured, vastly relieved. "It's almost over." She glanced at Mu. "I'm sure our passengers -including the volunteers- will be very glad when we reach the Eighth Fleet."

"Yeah," the pilot agreed. "What about you, Falcon?"

The Grimaldi Falcon was, as usual, perched in a corner of the Bridge, trench coat and eyepatch engendering an aura of mystery... exactly as intended. "Whether I'm glad or not is immaterial, Mu," he said calmly. "It suits my purposes, and my mission; for now, that is all that matters."

His brother rolled his eyes, unsurprised by the response. "No doubt."

From behind them came a grunt, then frantic typing at Pal's station. "Radar interference!" he called out. "N-jammer levels increasing!"

Murrue reacted instantly, hitting an intercom button. "All hands, Level One Battlestations! I repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations!"

"Ready Gottfrieds and Lohengrin," Natarle barked. "Lieutenant La Flaga?"

"Already on it," the Hawk replied, heading for the elevator. "Falcon-?"

Falcon had already shed his trench coat, leaving it to float in the out-of-the-way corner, and pushed himself toward the elevator hatch. "Let's go; we haven't much time." He paused. "One moment. What's the opposition?"

Tonomura consulted his detection systems. "Two _Nazcas,"_ he answered. "One has launched three GINNs, along with... I'm not sure yet. The other has deployed another four, as well as something the catalogue doesn't recognize. Best guess is some new variant of CGUE."

Falcon frowned. "But CGUEs never went into mass-production... Never mind. We don't have time."

As he was leaving, he heard one last exchange between Murrue and Tonomura. "We've identified the fourth machine as the Aegis, Ma'am."

"Then we know _exactly_ which _Nazca_ one of them is."

_The Aegis..._ Falcon thought._ Kira will be thrilled..._

He had no idea he was about to be in an even worse mood than his fellow Coordinator.

* * *

_Archangel, _Corridor

* * *

Kira raced toward the hangar as fast as his legs would carry him without sending him careening through the corridors in the zero-gravity environment. His rush was quite understandable, as was his illogical sense of the universe being unfair. _It's just not right,_ he groused to himself. _We're this close to rendezvous, this close to us getting off this ship and my not having to fight again, and _this_ happens!_

One thing that he found reassuring: both Falcon and Mu would be backing him up all the way. If there was a better pair to have at his side, Kira hadn't heard of it.

He was passing through the crew areas when a door slid open, and a voice stopped him. "Oh, my. What seems to be the rush?"

Kira almost groaned when he realized it was Lacus, once again straying out of her quarters at a bad moment. Still, he sympathized with the girl, so he took the time to be polite.

"There's a battle going on," he told her. "Or there's about to be. I'm sorry, but this really isn't a good time for you to be out of your quarters, okay?"

"I understand," Lacus replied; at least this was better than the mess that had landed her on the _Archangel_ in the first place. "But please, Mr. Yamato, be careful out there."

Puzzled and harried, Kira didn't take the time to try to figure out her meaning. "I will," he said simply, and took off again... only to run right into Flay Allster.

She was standing in the corridor, looking far more nervous than Lacus. "I hear there's another battle starting," she said worriedly. "Is everything going to be okay?"

Kira hesitated. It was no secret -so it seemed- that he was rather... fond... of Flay, and he didn't want her worried, or, worse yet, hurt. But he didn't know what to say. "Uh, Flay..."

Flay clutched at his arm. "I know this ship will be all right, but my father is out there, with the advance force. Please, Kira..."

He managed a reassuring smile. "I'll protect him, Flay. And the _Archangel._ Everything will be all right, so don't worry."

She nodded, still unsure but now reassured, and released his arm. "Thank you, Kira."

"I'd better go." Kira took off down the corridor again, hoping deep down that he _could,_ in fact, fulfill the promise he'd just made... and scared that he couldn't.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Falcon pulled himself easily into Raptor's cockpit, as ready for battle as ever. He'd only flown the machine in combat three times, but he was confident in his abilities. 

The first thing he did was to carefully place a photograph in one corner of the instrument panel; it was the same one he'd taken from his CGUE's cockpit. Then he took the ubiquitous cable from his flightsuit, and plugged it into the mobile suit's power supply.

"This is Falcon," he called to the Bridge. "Ready when you are."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Murrue replied._ "However, orders are to stay back and let the advance forces handle things."_

Falcon was sufficiently surprised to show it in the form of a raised eyebrow. "Has Captain Koopman lost his mind?" he asked politely. "There is no way a single _Nelson_-class and two_-Drake_-class ships, even with their complements of mobile armors, can stop the ZAFT attack force. Seven GINNs, the Aegis, and a new model CGUE? Murrue..."

_"We're aware of that, Commander," _Natarle cut in sharply; but she didn't seem too pleased about it, either._ "Orders are orders, though."_

"Figures," the pilot muttered to himself. _If this were my team,_ he thought, _being given such insane orders, I'd disregard them in a heartbeat. But I suppose the Earth Forces don't rely quite so much on initiative._ He snorted. _No wonder they're losing the war._ "All right, standing by."

Outside, in the huge chamber, Kira finally arrived, in full flight gear. "You're late," Murdoch admonished. His heart wasn't in it, though: it was obvious the delay meant little, given the peculiar orders Koopman had given.

"I'm sorry," the pilot apologized, without giving details, and plunged into the Strike.

Once inside, he too began preparing his machine for combat, sensing that _Archangel_ would not remain on the sidelines for long. _Athrun... will I have to face you again? Will you try to destroy this ship again? Because if you do... I may have no choice but to shoot you down._

Shaking off these thoughts, Kira keyed his radio. "Falcon, Lieutenant, I'm ready."

"Good to hear it, kid," Mu replied; he was even less bothered by Kira's tardiness than Murdoch. "I don't think we're gonna be able to stay out of this one, so keep on your toes. If things get bad, just remember to follow Falcon's lead; he'll get you out alive."

"Got it."

"Don't place too much faith in me," Falcon warned. "There are nine machines out there, and one of them I don't recognize. Keep your eyes open, and remember what I taught you."

"I will, Falcon." In the days since Artemis, the one-eyed pilot had put Kira through the simulators, using custom-made scenarios. These included a recreation of the Battle of Endymion, which Kira had survived through, as he saw it, luck.

Falcon disagreed. He'd kept a close eye on his young friend's simulations, and the test results astounded him. Kira might have only barely made it through the Endymion scenario, but he'd only been three actual battles before that; twice at Heliopolis, and once just outside Artemis (the skirmish in the Debris Belt didn't really count, since Kira and Falcon had blown away the recon GINN with absolutely no warning). Given that the Gray Demons who died at Endymion had considerably more experience than Kira, it was nothing short of astonishing that he survived on his first try.

In Falcon's experience, only one pilot came close to matching Kira's incredibly fast adjustment to mobile suit combat, and that was himself. Even in his case, he'd at least been inside one of the things before making his first kill!

_The kid is incredible,_ Falcon thought to himself, awaiting the inevitable order to launch._ If I were forming a new team, he'd be my first pick... and if I'd just seen his flying, without knowing anything about his background, I'd assume he was a hardened veteran, not a college kid who got caught in the middle! Too bad he's not sticking around, 'cause I could really use him..._

He would not be the last person to have that thought, though the next would have considerably less restraint... and tact.

* * *

_Montgomery, _Bridge

* * *

Atlantic Federation Vice Foreign Minister George Allster watched the oncoming ZAFT forces with something akin to panic. _This can't be happening,_ he told himself. _Not here, not now, not to me!_

"Launch our mobile armors," Koopman was ordering. "Ready all weapons and prepare for combat. Not that it'll do any good," he added under his breath.

"This is crazy!" Allster finally blurted. "There's so many; we can't possibly stop them all! Why did you order the _Archangel_ to stand off? They could help us!"

"They could," Koopman acknowledged, "but even then we'd be outnumbered. The important thing now is to give them time to escape, and get their ship and cargo to Ptolemaeus." He gave the politician a cold look. "We are expendable, Vice Minister, and they are not. Those are the facts."

"Expendable?" Allster stared at him with fear and outrage. "How can you say that? I'm the Vice Foreign Minister-"

"I realize that, Sir," the captain interrupted, "but the cold, hard fact is that right now, the Earth Alliance needs a vice foreign minister less than it needs the _Archangel_ and her remaining complement of mobile suits. It's also my belief that Commander Kenneth DiFalco will be more valuable to the war effort than any of us, which means my priority is to buy that ship time... even if it means our deaths."

Allster could only stare at him in horror, as a crewman called out a warning. "We have engaged the enemy, Captain."

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"And so it begins," Le Creuset murmured. "I doubt it will take very long for us to fight our way through this rabble, but their sacrifice may actually buy the legged ship enough time to withdraw. What do you think, Ades?" he asked, turning to the captain. 

Ades took a moment to think about that. He wasn't brilliant, and he knew it, but he did have a decent intellect; and he had the advantage of also being an acquaintance of Commander DiFalco. "They may have time to withdraw," he said slowly, "but there may be one factor to delay them."

"Two, actually," Le Creuset corrected. "They'll also be reluctant to sit by and watch their comrades be blown out of space; such is human nature. I assume, though, that you're referring to Commander Huckebein's presence? Yes, I'm sure that will distract Falcon quite well, if and when he's launched; in that event, I have no doubt the legged ship will tarry to help him, and then the ship will be ours."

"Agreed." Ades frowned, though; something was bothering him. "But can we count on Commander Huckebein? Something just... doesn't seem right, if you'll pardon me for saying so, Sir."

"It's quite all right," his commander assured him. "Frankly, something about him is bothering me, as well. According to military records, he was somewhat... peculiar, even from the time he first joined ZAFT; apparently, Falcon was one of the few who could stand him enough to take him into his team. Now, I suspect having his heart destroyed by Falcon's blade has done something to him." He smiled. "You know, Committee Chairman Zala really was quite brilliant, in setting up this operation. If I'm not mistaken, while he does hope to take Falcon alive, he also hopes Huckebein will die in the process, thus removing a potentially unstable element from the equation."

_Vesalius_' captain stared at him. "You can't mean...?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Ades," Le Creuset said calmly. "It's how it's always been done, throughout the millennia of human conflict: when you have a man who is becoming an inconvenience -or worse, a threat- you send him out to the frontlines, and hope he doesn't make it back. There's nothing remarkable about that." He steepled his fingers. "If I'm not mistaken, Committee Chairman Zala has read Falcon quite well: as soon as he realizes Victor Tempest is here, he will attack with everything he has. That should, in theory, result in Huckebein's death, while Falcon's machine takes enough of a beating in the process to make capture feasible. Yes, a most brilliant plan..."

Almost as a backdrop to the conversation, a mobile armor and the Earth Alliance Forces Escort Ship _Law_ vanished in a fiery pyre against the black of space.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Murrue watched helplessly as the first of the three escort ships was blasted out of space by the ZAFT forces. _This is unbelievable,_ a corner of her mind whispered. _We come so close to rendezvous, only to have it disrupted by a chance encounter with ZAFT forces... and now we're outnumbered. Is there any way out of this situation?_

The screen on her left armrest lit up. _"Captain,"_ Mu began, _"we have to do something. The advance force is getting slaughtered out there, and we're next. I don't think we can get out of this without a fight."_

"But our orders-" Murrue protested.

Her right-hand screen came on. _"Forget the orders,"_ Falcon advised coldly. _"A soldier is supposed to be obey orders, even to the death; but there comes a time when to obey orders is to lose one's life for no reason at all, and _that_ is when the soldier _must_ disobey. If we stay like this, Murrue, we will be throwing our lives away, and that is _not_ the soldier's duty."_

The pilot's vehemence told Murrue he had an ulterior motive. Something about the way he talked about throwing their lives away made her think he, for whatever reason, thought his own survival was imperative... and something told her it wasn't ego or self-preservation gone out of control. _He knows something... and if he dies, the ability to do anything about it dies with him..._

That, however, was not relevant to this situation. What _was_ relevant was that he was right. "It's true," she said slowly. "There's little chance would escape even if we _did_ withdraw. Very well," she continued, looking down into CIC. "Launch the Strike, Raptor, and Moebius Zero."

"Yes, Ma'am," Mir responded. "Load the Zero into the port catapult, and Strike to starboard. Prepare Raptor for launch."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

"Finally," Falcon muttered. "I was beginning to think she'd wait until the advance force was all gone..." Not that he expected the ships to survive anyway; the _Archangel_'s intervention might save herself, but with the enemy forces arrayed against them, _Montgomery_ and her remaining sister were doomed. 

In the starboard catapult, Kira lowered his visor. "Strike here. I'm ready."

_"Roger that,"_ Mir answered.

Sai's voice broke in. _"Be careful out there, Kira. And remember, Flay's father is on one of those ships, too."_

"I know. I won't forget." His grip tightened on the controls. "Kira Yamato, launching!"

To port, the Moebius Zero was being loaded, while Raptor took Strike's place. "You ready, Falcon?" Mu called, lowering his visor.

"Ready as I can be," Falcon replied. "This won't be easy, Mu. You know that."

"You faced worse at Endymion," his brother pointed out.

"That was because of that cursed Cyclops, and you know it. We were winning at Endymion, Mu. Mostly." He qualified his statement as he remembered the casualties his team had taken even _before_ the Cyclops annihilated everything.

"Yeah, well, this time you've got a G-weapon; maybe you'll have better luck." Mu grinned. "And your protégé's no slouch, either." He gripped his flight stick. "Mu La Flaga, launching!"

"Grimaldi Falcon, launching." Once out of the catapult, Falcon's one-eyed gaze flicked over to the Zero. "My _what,_ Mu?"

"Hey, you taught him everything he knows, right?"

* * *

_Montgomery, _Bridge

* * *

"Status change!" a crewman called out. _"Archangel_ seems to be deploying-" 

He broke off as a GINN came uncomfortably close to the Bride viewport, only to be blown away by a huge green blast.

"The _Archangel_'s come to help!" Allster exclaimed, expressing vast -unfounded- relief.

"Against orders," Koopman muttered. In a sense, he was just as angry at himself as at Murrue Ramius. _Idiot,_ he groused. _First rule of command: never give an order you _know_ won't be obeyed. And you _should_ have known._

"As I was saying," the crewman continued after several moments, "the _Archangel_ has deployed the Moebius Zero and both G-machines."

"Then we have a chance," Allster said hopefully.

Koopman glanced at him with barely-disguised disgust. "If you honestly believe that, Sir, then I suggest you take another look at the odds."

The politician didn't understand, which was perhaps fortunate. If he had, he would have realized that the odds had hardly changed at all.

* * *

Orbit, Exact Coordinates Unknown

* * *

"What we have here is a furball," Falcon muttered to himself. "Or at least it's about it be." He keyed his radio. "Kira, keep Aegis busy; Mu and I will handle the GINNs." 

"Roger that." Kira had been intending to do that anyway. _I don't want to fight you, Athrun, but better it be me than somebody else._

Strike pealed away from Raptor and the Zero, leaving them to go after the main force. "You think we can handle all those GINNs, Falcon?" Mu queried. "Sure are a lot of them."

"The GINNs don't worry me," Falcon replied, frowning. "It's that CGUE. It appears to have beam weapons... and his flying style seems familiar..." He shrugged, and set his radio on a general frequency, before opening his mouth.

The ZAFT pilots instantly recognized the wailing cry of the peregrine falcon that was the Grimaldi Falcon's trademark, and some of them hesitated, fearful... while others went straight for the traitor.

"Here they come, Falcon," Mu warned. "Let's go."

"Acknowledged." Falcon's Death Blossoms deployed, and he tightened his grip on the controls. "Break formation and open fire."

The Hawk judged from his brother's tone that he wasn't speaking directly to him; it was merely habit, from long-ago battles. _On the other hand,_ Mu thought, _this kid actually has more battle experience than I do. Maybe I'd better listen to him._

Even as Strike and Aegis began to clash blade to blade, neither saying a word, the first GINNs reached Mu and Falcon, and the furball began.

The Zero wrenched around, pulling as many Gs as its pilot could stand, and sent its wired gunbarrels spiraling out, spitting death from all directions. Meanwhile, Raptor had drawn a beam saber from its Striker pack, and aimed its arm-mounted rocket anchor at one enemy while simultaneously engaging another with the Death Blossoms.

The unlucky pilot of Falcon's first target gasped in surprise as the Panzer Eisen shot out at him, grabbed his GINN's arm, and retracted, pulling him into easy killing range. "Oh, no-!" The saber swept toward him...

But did not plunge into the cockpit, as expected. Instead, Falcon swept it lower, cutting through the GINN's legs, then high, through both arms, leaving the machine capable of little more than maneuvering. "Remember Lesson Twenty-Nine," he whispered. "The sly Falcon does not kill at whim."

As Raptor released the badly-maimed machine, the pilot -off of _Nacht Jaeger-_ opened a channel to his commander. "Commander Huckebein, Sir, I'm sorry. I'm out of the fight."

"Get going, Jack," Huckebein ordered. "We'll handle him from here."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Few pilots can match the Grimaldi Falcon."

Unbeknownst to either of them, Falcon had been listening in on the standard ZAFT frequencies, and now his eye went wide with shock. "Huckebein...?" he whispered, stunned. _"Tempest!"_

To Mu's utter bemusement -he was busy fighting another GINN, but he also kept an eye on his brother- Raptor wheeled around and headed straight for the CGUE DEEP Arms, ignoring all else... even the pair of GINNs that attempted to impede his progress. "What's the matter with you, Falcon? Where are you going?"

"Huckebein's out here, Mu," Falcon replied tensely.

_That_ name Mu recognized. "You mean Huckebein the Raven? What's so remarkable-"

"Mu, Huckebein the Raven was Victor Tempest's alias, when he was with the Gray Demons." The one-eyed pilot bared his teeth in a snarl. "I guess I didn't kill him dead enough, that bastard."

It was the most emotion Mu had ever heard from the man, and it surprised him. Evidently, some things _could_ get through his formidable self-control; and it appeared the friendship between Ken DiFalco and Victor Tempest had turned now to mutual hatred.

_We don't have time for this,_ Mu told himself._ A battle like this is no place for a personal vendetta. But... he _is_ an enemy, anyway, and flying the second-best mobile suit they've got out here; and if Falcon doesn't do it here, I'm sure he'll do it next time. Might as well get it over with._

"Go get him, little brother," he said finally. "I'll try and keep the GINNs off you. But _be_ _careful,_ okay?"

"Whatever you say." From the tone of his voice, it was clear Falcon wasn't even really paying attention now; every sense, every facet of his mind, was focused on his new objective: kill Victor Tempest. Finish the job begun at the Eyrie, months ago. A flash of the past went through Falcon's mind...

Falcon's blade caught Tempest's, forcing him back a step. "Just what do you think you're doing, Victor?" he demanded.

"Taking over," Tempest answered, bringing his katana forward again, narrowly missing his commander's face. "You are not the right man for the job, Commander. Not anymore."

"Don't be a fool, Victor! Even if you win, you know the penalty for assaulting a superior officer!"

Tempest's blade came around again, biting into Falcon's flesh, arcing diagonally across his left eye...

"Not this time, Victor," Falcon whispered. "You're not getting away today." Raptor's verniers went to full power, thrusting toward the DEEP Arms.

* * *

Huckebein grinned, seeing his former commander's machine plunge through space toward him. "So, Commander," he called, keying his radio. "You've realized who I am, have you?" 

"Traitor," Falcon hissed. "Today's the day, Tempest. Or should I say, Huckebein the Raven? You seem to be going by a new moniker."

"Oh, it's the same one I was using with the Demons," Tempest said indifferently. "It's just, these days it's almost the _only_ thing I'm called."

"Whatever. Today you die, Raven." Falcon raised his beam saber, attention entirely focused on his target; even when Strike and Aegis flashed past, exchanging laser fire, his gaze did not waver. "I'll make sure of it this time."

"Is that a fact?" The masked pilot sounded more amused than anything else. "Don't count on it, _Sir._ You may be flying one of those fancy G-machines, with that fancy Phase-shift armor, but it won't do you any good at all against beam weapons."

The new-model CGUE armed both shoulder-mounted cannons, and drew the huge laser sword sheathed at its side. Then, without so much as an "en garde", it attacked, swinging the sword while simultaneously opening up with the cannons.

Falcon once again uttered the inhuman wail that was his trademark, and moved to counter the preemptive strike. His beam cannons intercepted and nullified the incoming energy streams, and his saber clashed with Tempest's blade. "You won't win that easily, old student."

"Did I say I thought it would be easy? Sorry, sensei, but I gave up underestimating you after you cost me my heart." Huckebein grinned, swinging his weapon again. "Besides, wasn't it you that said 'The one who fights fair is the one who dies'?"

"Lesson Thirty-four," Falcon acknowledged. "I see you haven't forgotten it. Your point?" He parried another blow, then grunted as another got through his guard and cut the control wire connecting the lower right Death Blossom to the Raptor.

"The point," his former pupil replied, "is that I have more friends than you do. Boys?"

The remaining three GINNs from _Nacht Jaeger_ converged on Falcon, and suddenly his problems were multiplied by four.

"Not good," he muttered. "Well, they don't call me the Falcon of Grimaldi for nothing..." His remaining three Death Blossoms moved to cover him, spiraling around to keep the GINNs busy while he focused on his target... who managed to get in another hit, leaving a gash in Raptor's right leg.

"You're losing your touch, Falcon," Huckebein observed. "I'm disappointed."

Falcon sneered. "Don't think it's over, Victor." He backed away, firing off a shot at a GINN's leg, and lifted his saber into position one more time. "One of us won't survive today!"

* * *

Mu looked at the confrontation taking place near the _Nacht Jaeger,_ and shook his head. Falcon was clearly outnumbered, and Mu had his doubts about even _that_ pilot succeeding against such odds. But he knew Falcon wouldn't thank him for intervening, no matter the circumstances. 

Besides, he had his own problems. Kira was still engaged in a stalemate with the Aegis, and all of the advance force's mobile armors had been shot down, along with _Law._ Now that all that was left was himself, _Bernard, Montgomery,_ and _Archangel._

A moment later, another flash lit the heavens, and Mu cursed. _Correction,_ he thought. _No more _Bernard.

He pulled around, dueling with a GINN, and cursed yet again as a shot took him in the main engines. Now he had no choice but to pull in his wired gunbarrels, because without their maneuvering thrusters, he couldn't even move. _Time to go... blast it._

The Zero wrenched around, heading back toward the _Archangel_ at the best speed remaining to it. _"Archangel,_ this is La Flaga," Mu called. "I'm hit, and returning. Listen, there's no way we can win this; we have to get out of here, now."

_"We're trying,"_ Murrue replied._ "I just got a message from Captain Koopman, telling us to save ourselves; but I don't see how we can."_

_"I do,"_ Sophia suddenly interrupted._ "Give Falcon some support; if he can finish whatever he's doing, he and Kira can hold them off long enough for us to escape."_

"Falcon won't appreciate any help," Mu warned.

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant; I heard your com chatter. That's why I'm not suggesting we attack the CGUE. But I don't think he'll mind too much if we get a couple of those GINNs off his back."

"Point," he conceded. "But you'd better hurry; and whatever you do, watch where you're shooting! We can't afford any friendly fire here."

"I know."

Within _Archangel,_ though, someone else had another plan, and Flay Allster made her way to the Bridge... with someone else in tow...

* * *

"You're not getting away from me, Victor," Falcon hissed, clashing blades with the CGUE. "Not today." 

Tempest broke away, jetted upward (relative to his adversary), and opened fire with his cannons. "I didn't say anything about trying to get away, did I, Falcon?"

"No, you didn't. Fortunately." The one-eyed pilot smiled thinly. "I hope your will is written up." He took the cannon shot on his shield, and spared a moment of his attention for one of the other GINNs. It had tried to get in behind him; a mistake. All three surviving Death Blossoms targeted it, and blew away both arms and its head.

Unable to use any weapons, forward cameras gone, the GINN retreated, and the odds were lowered. Now, only two GINNs -one missing a foot- and Huckebein himself remained to challenge the Grimaldi Falcon.

He _hadn't_ lost his touch.

They clashed blades again, and then both ducked aside as a linear cannon spat a projectile toward their vicinity. The huge shot caught the damaged GINN in the torso, annihilating it.

_"Thought you could use a little help, Falcon,"_ Murrue called.

_"I hope we weren't being presumptuous,"_ Sophia added.

"Thanks," Falcon grunted, and switched frequencies. "Well, Raven? The odds are even now; feel like giving up?"

Huckebein frowned. "Even? Since when is two on one considered even?"

"When the one trained the two," Falcon replied, and opened fire with a Death Blossom... producing a most unexpected result.

The remote weapons platform had been damaged by an earlier GINN attack, and now the energy surge destroyed it, taking one other emitter with it. Now Raptor was down to just one, leaving it vulnerable to attack.

The Falcon didn't even bother to curse. Instead, he began rapid, continuous fire with his last Death Blossom, and lunged toward Huckebein's DEEP Arms, saber swinging. "Do me a favor," he grunted, "and die."

Tempest _did_ curse, when the energy blade cut off his machine's right arm. "I'll get you for that, Falcon!" he cried... and the battlefield froze as all ears listened to radio transmissions from the _Archangel._

Falcon had been aware, in a very peripheral sense, of the commotion on the ship's Bridge; he'd gotten the vague impression that Flay was trying to use Lacus Clyne as a hostage. But until now, he'd ignored it. Because until now, it hadn't been going out on a general frequency.

Now it was, and all on the battlefield listened as Flay ranted. _"Tell them,"_ she shouted, apparently unaware that a link had finally been opened, _"that if they don't stop firing on my father's ship, I will kill this girl!"_

Huckebein snorted. "That girl thinks the life of Lacus Clyne means that much to me? Think again." Then, before Falcon could even think of stopping him, he spun his DEEP Arms around and targeted the _Montgomery_ with his cannons. "Game over," he said indifferently, and fired.

Captain Augustus Koopman, Atlantic Federation Vice Foreign Minister George Allster, and the entire crew of the Earth Alliance Forces _Nelson-_class Escort Ship _Montgomery_ vanished in a blaze of light and heat, while Flay Allster screamed in anguish.

* * *

Author's note: The Grimaldi Falcon has had his first run-in with his former pupil Victor Tempest since nearly killing him the year before, and now "Huckebein the Raven" had contributed to the destruction of the Eighth Fleet's advance force. Where will his confrontations with his former commander lead? 

RVD, Sparky isn't Falcon's only ace in the hole, as will be revealed later; he will also be instrumental in another of his commander's plans, the beginnings of which will soon be hinted at.

This will not, obviously, be Falcon's final encounter with Victor Tempest. The Raven will be a nuisance for a long time to come…

Infinite Freedom, I believe I already replied to you via e-mail... I hope you liked the chapter.

Ominae, the idea may sound farfetched, but it's not the craziest notion I've heard, especially since Murrue will be one of the first people to begin to puzzle out the enigma that is Kenneth DiFalco…

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I'm glad you still approve. As for better reviews… well, it's good to know you're enjoying it, regardless.

Not so much to say this time, I guess. Just let me know what you thought of this chapter. -Solid Shark


	8. Chapter 8: The Right Thing to Do

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

The destruction of the _Montgomery,_ along with Koopman and George Allster, turned the entire battlefield into a frozen tableau in an instant. 

Actually, make that _two_ instants.

Raptor had begun to move even as Tempest's DEEP Arms targeted its weapons on the Earth Forces' ship, and now the Bridge crew watched as Falcon completed the motion. His machine's right hand swept down, beam saber cutting through one of the CGUE's cannons from behind, then swept around and destroyed the other, leaving the mobile suit defenseless.

Before Huckebein could even begin to try a countermove (exactly what, given that all his weapons were gone, no one would ever know), Natarle gently shouldered the nearly-catatonic Flay aside, and snatched Kuzzey's headset. "Attention, all ZAFT forces," she called, noting absently that Sai was removing the troublesome civilian from the Bridge. "I would suggest that you cease combat operations at once. We have someone aboard whom I believe you wouldn't want anything to happen to." She turned Kuzzey's display, bringing Lacus into view. "No doubt you recognize her, but in case you don't, this is Lacus Clyne. As in Supreme Council Chairman _Siegel_ Clyne's daughter." She raised an eyebrow. "Now, I leave it to you to consider what would happen to Miss Clyne if you were to continue your attack." Without waiting for any kind of response, Natarle closed the radio link.

Instantly, Falcon's face appeared on one of the monitors. _"You're out of your mind,"_ he hissed; his expressionless mask was still imperfect, following his duel with his former student. _"If you were in my unit, Ensign, I'd have you shot; as it is, do you have any idea how ZAFT forces will react to this insane stunt? I know Rau Le Creuset; you can't count on that bastard to care about civilian casualties!"_

"Save it, Commander," she advised. "Spare me your complaints until we see how well this works."

His response was unexpected, and most impolite.

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"Now, _this_ is an unexpected turn of events," Le Creuset murmured. "First Falcon nearly kills his student far faster than I expected, now the Earth Forces once again demonstrate they have no legitimate claim to the moral high ground." 

"Sir," Ades said urgently, "they have Miss Clyne. We can't-"

"Yes, I know. Order all forces to cease combat operations and withdraw immediately." The masked man paused. "Oh, and if Commander Huckebein objects, please remind him that our original mission out here is to rescue Miss Clyne... and that the penalty for violating those orders is execution."

"Yes, Sir." The captain didn't hesitate; partly because he, too, was unsure of what Huckebein might do if not kept on a proper leash.

Le Creuset slowly shook his head. _No doubt Falcon is about as angry as he ever gets; were he in charge over there, he'd have that woman -whoever she is- summarily shot... as befits someone who uses such a tactic. At least from Falcon's point of view._ He smiled to himself. _The man always was too much of an idealist. How ironic that he was working on _that_ project, when last he was with us..._

* * *

Orbit, Exact Coordinates Unknown

* * *

Kira Yamato stared at the _Archangel_ with utter shock, Athrun with utter fury. _Those Earth Alliance _butchers!he snarled to himself. _How _dare_ they-!_

"How _could_ they...?" Kira whispered. "She's a rescued civilian, not a tool..."

The Aegis swung around to look at the Strike. "Well, Kira?" Athrun demanded. "Can you still claim to be justified in fighting with them? With these _cowards?_ Using a rescued civilian as a hostage... They'll pay for this, Kira!"

"Athrun, I..."

"Listen up, Zala," Falcon cut in coldly. "Bad as this may be, and I agree the good ensign is practicing cowardice, your father is planning something worse. Next time you see him, tell him I know what he's planning to do, and I won't let him do it."

"Spare me your ranting, Commander," Athrun said harshly. "Just understand one thing. I don't care how good you are; I'm _gonna_ rescue Lacus. Bet on it."

His image disappeared from Falcon's screen, and the pilot raised an eyebrow. _No, Athrun,_ he thought. _You're _not_ going to rescue her. No, that's _my_ job..._

Victor Tempest glared at the Raptor, but he knew better than to attack now. The reminder of the penalty for disobeying orders -or at least _these_ orders- had been unnecessary; whatever his feelings about his former commander might be, his primary objective, like Falcon's, was the protection of the PLANTs. Besides which, he knew he was still on thin ice, after attempting to kill his commander the previous year, on the Grimaldi Front.

"We'll finish this another time, Falcon," he hissed, and hit his thrusters, angling back toward _Nacht Jaeger._

"Yes," Falcon murmured. "Another time. Thanks for the souvenir, though..." His rocket anchor shot out, collecting the CGUE's disembodied right hand, still holding the laser sword. Then he keyed his radio. "Kira, return to the _Archangel,"_ he said. "There's nothing left to do out here."

"Roger that," Kira answered, sounding subdued.

The battered forces of three ships turned aside, leaving the battlefield to the dead... of which there was all too many.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"I cannot _believe_ you did that!" Sophia stared at Natarle with a mixture of shock and righteous indignation. 

The other woman looked at her defiantly. "I couldn't just sit by and let the _Archangel_ be destroyed," she retorted. "The advance force was gone; what _else_ could we do?"

"Listen to me, Ensign," Sophia said dangerously. "The Earth Forces have had a hard enough time claiming the moral high ground since the Bloody Valentine; do you really want to make things even worse by holding the closest thing they've got to a princess hostage?"

"I repeat, what choice was there?"

The lieutenant slapped her hand on Pal's console. "In case you didn't notice, Ensign Badgiruel, the Strike and my brother had things well in hand out there!"

Natarle shook her head. "That may be what it looked like to _you,_ Lieutenant, but I remind you again that you're not trained for this kind of thing. The Strike was in an effective stalemate with the Aegis, and Commander DiFalco had taken damage. He could well have taken that new CGUE, and probably the remaining GINN from that ship, as well, but there was still a pair of GINNs from _Vesalius_ to consider. And even if he'd managed to take _them,_ I expect Le Creuset would have launched personally."

"Your point?" Sophia's voice was cold, her expression colder. "I'm not sure what you're trying to imply with that last, Ensign."

"She means," Murrue said wearily, "that Rau Le Creuset is one of two pilots still with ZAFT who is reputed to be able to take the Grimaldi Falcon. Now please, Sophia, drop it. What's done it done. However," she went on, raising a hand, "I do intend that we _never_ use such a tactic again. Whatever its tactical merits -which Falcon, I believe, would point out are dubious- we cannot continue to act in such a manner if we are to claim we're better than they are. I'll let it pass this time, but never again." She stared at Natarle. "Is that understood, Ensign?"

The ensign met her gaze levelly. "Yes, Ma'am." _Even though regulations permit such actions..._

Murrue rubbed her head. _The aftermath of this is _not_ going to be easy to live with. I'm really not looking forward to facing Falcon over it..._ She'd heard his transmission, and didn't doubt for a moment that he meant it. If he'd been in command, Natarle would have been summarily executed, as was the ZAFT way.

"Raptor and Strike have returned, Ma'am," Mir reported.

"Both _Nazcas_ have recovered their mobile suits and withdrawn from the battle area," Tonomura added. _"Archangel_'s immediate vicinity is now clear of all hostiles."

"Good." Murrue finally allowed herself to relax. "Stand down from Level One Battlestations, and resume course to the rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet."

"Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Falcon powered down his mobile suit, ripped the power cable out of its jack, and opened the hatch, while simultaneously ripping off his helmet. He was in a cold rage, angrier than he had been since learning of Patrick's mad plans. 

As he approached the deck, he heard Mu saying something about a curse. "It ain't the ship," he was telling Murdoch, "it's Le Creuset. I'm getting really tired of that guy."

"Le Creuset may be a curse, Mu," Falcon said, struggling to keep his voice even, "but that ensign up there is a menace."

Mu flinched at the tone. "Now look, Falcon, you weren't there; you can't judge-"

The one-eyed pilot's sharp response wasn't the most polite way to call something garbage. "That's right," he added, forcing his voice lower, "I wasn't on the Bridge. No, I was out _there,_ two steps from getting my tail shot off, thanks to those abysmal _idiots_ with the advance force, who could have saved their worthless hides if they'd just had the two brain cells needed to realize _Archangel_ was needed from the start!"

The totally out of character outburst shocked everyone in the compartment. "Uh, Falcon..." his brother began hesitantly.

"That ensign is brighter than they were," Falcon went on, "but apparently she hasn't learned the lesson the Bloody Valentine taught you incompetent eggheads: threatening civilians is a bad way to win a war, and a very _good_ way to make the enemy even more motivated to blow you all to space dust!"

With that, he stormed out of the hangar, his positively thunderous expression clearing a path as well as any physical contact might have.

The way his hand kept twitching toward the katana at his side might have had something to do with it, too.

Kira, having gotten out of the Strike during the explosion, touched down on the deck next to Mu, awe clearly visible on his face. "Uh, well, Lieutenant," he began, a touch off-balance, "I was _going_ to complain about the treatment of Miss Lacus, but..."

"Yeah..." Mu whispered, thunderstruck. "I think Falcon did it for you already..."

Murdoch shook his head. "I didn't know he was capable of getting that angry. 'Course, the way he went after that CGUE out there shoulda told me, but still..." He finally shrugged, and turned to his mechanics. "Okay, you grease monkeys! We got a lot of work to do, so get to it! The Zero needs its engines fixed, and Raptor needs a three new gunbarrels and some patched-up armor..."

Mu shook his head as the head "grease monkey" wandered off. "Good thing we've got that CGUE," he commented to Kira. "I don't think Raptor will be ready in time for the next sortie, and it's even less likely that Falcon will be content to sit it out..."

Kira slowly nodded. "Yeah..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Deck

* * *

Ken DiFalco didn't even bother to change out of his flightsuit before heading for the little-used compartment at the rear of the _Archangel_'s superstructure. He was in a foul temper, and as far as he could tell, the place was only used by himself and, occasionally, Kira. Since Kira wasn't around right now... 

Two steps in, his hand went to his side, and his blade flashed out. Another step, and it began to move, going through a long-practiced kata, fighting an invisible opponent. "I... am so sick... of this charade!" he snarled, venting his emotions out of earshot of anyone else. "Sick and tired of playing the cursed role! My mission was _over!"_

The eyepatch-wearing young man careened around the room, swinging his blade again and again, letting out long-pent frustration. No longer was he the ZAFT commander. No longer the deserter with the master plan. Now he was just a man, who was tired of everything at once, but most of all the great, dangerous game he was playing.

"If this is what the Naturals are capable of," Falcon shouted at the bulkheads, "then maybe they deserve it! Maybe I should abandon my mission, and _let_ Patrick do it!" A careless slash grazed his hand, opening a gash that bled into the air, heedless of gravity, unnoticed by him. "I _hate_ this! It's too much for one man to assume, too much for one man to try to stop! The Falcon of Grimaldi, the greatest _idiot_ ZAFT ever produced! You arrogant jackass!"

Ken wheeled around, slashing at the air again and again and again, pushed to his limit and beyond by the enormity of what he was trying to do, to accomplish. With every breath he cursed himself for assuming once more the mantle -the overwhelming responsibility- of the Grimaldi Falcon.

It wasn't the first time. Every so often, the stress got to him, and he exploded. The results were violent, but, mercifully, tended to be brief. But when it happened, he made sure to be _far_ away from anyone else, especially since assuming his current role. He could not afford to break the uncaring mask, not now...

Not that the youth currently cared. All he cared about was releasing all his frustration before it consumed him, led him into fatal errors... and besides, he was just plain _mad._

Several minutes into his tirade, a voice broke the silence. "Oh, my. Are you all right, Commander DiFalco?"

Falcon instantly attempted to check his momentum, and instead found himself spinning in place, until he had the presence of mind to jab his sword against the deck. "Lacus? What are you doing here?"

The one-eyed pilot was doing a very good job of hiding the emotions he'd just been venting, but Lacus saw a trace of them on his face anyway. "Mr. Pink wanted to go for a walk," she said, holding up the Haro, "and when he wants that, well, locked doors just don't seem to stand in his way. He always opens them somehow; and this time, we happened to wander in this direction, and I heard faint shouting coming from here. Are you sure you're all right?"

"It's nothing, Lacus," he said quietly, feeling very tired; yet also much more relaxed. "Nothing you need to worry about, at any rate. I just... have a lot on my mind."

"I see..." She tilted her head, looking at his hand. "You appear to be injured, Falcon."

"My own fault; don't worry about it." Falcon turned to look out the viewport. "Ensign Badgiruel's tactics just made me angry, that's all."

"I don't understand," Lacus said, perplexed (or so, at least, she appeared). "What she did successfully ended the fighting, didn't it?"

"Yes," he agreed tightly, "but that is not the sort of conduct one expects from a professional soldier. I do not approve of hostage taking, no matter the reason, no matter the circumstances. It reminds me all too much of the Bloody Valentine, when they blew up almost a quarter of a million people for the crime of growing their own food, simply because those bastards in the sponsor nations had decreed we didn't have the right to."

Lacus sighed. "You carry great sorrow with you, Falcon; and you take responsibility for far too much. Whatever this war may be leading to, it isn't your fault."

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Lacus," Falcon said quietly. "I take responsibility for so much because it _is_ my responsibility. However... that also means I try to end to it, and I am. I have a handful of people working toward that goal now..."

She nodded, remembering certain things her bodyguard, Sparky, had mentioned from time to time. "I said I would help in any way I could," she reminded him. "Is there anything I can do?"

"As a matter of fact... yes." He reached into a pocket of his flightsuit, and withdrew his computer; from it, he pulled a small disc. "The schematics on this probably wouldn't make any sense to you -it's pretty technical- but Sparky will know what to do with it. I want you to take this, keep it safe, and get it to him when you return to the PLANTs."

Lacus took the disc, examining it carefully; she had no idea what it might contain, but she would take his word for it. "I'm not certain when it will be possible for me to pass it on, but I'll do my best, Falcon."

"Thank you, Lacus. That's all I ask." The shadow of a smile touched Falcon's face. "And you might have a chance sooner than you think; I have the feeling you won't be remaining on the _Archangel_ too much longer..."

* * *

Lacus may have had no idea what was on the disc, and probably wouldn't have understood the technicalities of it if she had, but Falcon was correct: Lance "Sparky" Cooper would know what to do with it. 

After all, he _was_ in charge of the operation Falcon had left behind, and knew just how to clandestinely put something into production. He even knew better than to ask questions, even if the design was like nothing ever seen before. He knew that, unknown to most, his commander was more than just a fighter jock: he was also a talented engineer... which meant the file's contents would not surprise him at all.

So one way or another, once Lacus Clyne returned to the PLANTs, a new facet of Ken DiFalco's master plan would be set into motion, as ZGMF-X00A Preybird began construction.

Though, of course, one notation would give even Sparky pause. After all, a mobile suit is of limited utility without sufficient power...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Sophia's Quarters

* * *

Deep in the night, while Flay Allster languished, unconscious, in the Infirmary, one woman was still very much awake, as she had been every night following a battle since this insane journey from Heliopolis had begun. It was only then that she went back over the day's battle data, while everyone else theoretically slept. It was the only time she would risk it. 

Now Sophia DiFalco went over Falcon's clash with the GINNs off of _Nacht Jaeger_, and the CGUE variant whose pilot he seemed very determined to eliminate. The ruthless efficiency -and ability- with which he'd taken care of his adversaries was something she found very interesting... and worrisome. Not to mention the implicit contradiction: every indication was that Der Schreckick Eins had been a complete success... yet with the exception of Victor Tempest, Falcon had gone out of his way to make sure he caused no fatalities.

So now she pored over Doctor Metzinger's notes and records, painstakingly reconstructed over a period of years, and hoped there might be a clue within the old data. It didn't help that she still hadn't unscrambled all the computer files, but what she had was substantial.

Try as she might, she still hadn't found the key. Some of it was genetic, and Sophia had managed to confirm those; the only exception was a hormonal trigger that _ought_ to have kicked in around when Falcon turned sixteen, but if that eyepatch was any indication, it was no longer possible to find out.

What worried her were Metzinger's references to hypnotic conditioning; triggers left deep in the mind that would also be activated by the proper hormonal responses. But there was no way to tell if the triggers had ever been planted in the first place... which left her right back at square one.

"Well, I know one thing," Sophia muttered to herself, rubbing her temples. "He was right about the La Flaga family traits... and it looks like most of the other genetic tricks worked. But how far along he did he _get_ before the attack?"

It was a question with no clear answer, and it frightened her. Falcon gave every sign of being exactly what Metzinger had wanted... except for that outburst of temper earlier. That did _not_ match the profile in any way, yet everything else _did._ _The key _has_ to be in here somewhere,_ she thought, _but _where?_ Blast it, genetics aren't even my field..._

Sophia delved deeper, into sections she hadn't examined before, because they hadn't appeared relevant. Who knew, maybe something seemingly innocuous was responsible... At the least she figured she ought to be learn _something_ more.

Then her fingers paused on the keyboard, and she stared at a file heading. _But that's... nobody's found a way to quantify that yet; they're not even sure it exists, let alone how to work with it! But maybe... that's the key to his performance at Junius Seven, and Jachin..._

The file was labeled only as _Hyper Berserker._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor Outside Infirmary

* * *

The next day, Falcon had once again donned his trench coat, and not a hint of his outburst the previous day -public or private- could be seen on his face. He was back to his impassive self, which suited the entire ship just fine. They could handle the occasional sharp remark from him -he _was_ a former combat commander, after all- but the cold fury he'd expressed was... discomforting. 

If Falcon had shown any _warm_ feelings, the entire crew would probably have died of fright.

The one-eyed pilot allowed an expression of mild puzzlement to cross his face as he neared the Infirmary. He heard something that sounded suspiciously like sobbing, mixed in with shouting.

Mir was approaching from the opposite direction, and their gazes met. "What in the world is going on?" she asked quietly, just as confused.

Falcon shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Miriallia. Although... I suspect it has something to do with Flay. After what happened yesterday..."

"But she was sleeping peacefully just a little bit ago..."

His expression was grave. "But if she has awakened, her reaction may be very different. Trust me, my friend, I know from experience that of which I speak." Moving decisively -he was not known for hesitation- he went toward the Infirmary hatch. "Come."

It slid open, revealing a sobbing, almost incoherent Flay, held in Sai's arms. At the sound of the opening hatch, she instinctively turned... and took in the sight of a Coordinator, and a man whom she hadn't trusted even from the start.

_"You!"_ Flay shouted, wild rage in her eyes. "My father's gone because of people like you! Because of you Coordinators-!"

"One moment, Flay," Falcon cut in, cool voice easily breaking into her tirade. "You can shout at me all you want in a moment, but give me just a few moments to explain." His eye was cold, and he didn't wait for a response. "As a matter of fact, I have every intention of killing the man who destroyed your father's ship. Like you, I have a personal reason to despise him; but in my case, it wasn't that he killed or threatened a loved one. No, he tried to kill _me._ So yes, Flay, I know what you're going through, and rest assured, I won't rest until Victor Tempest is dead." He rubbed his eyepatch. "The man is my responsibility," he went on, voice quiet. "He was a member of my team... and my student."

He instantly realized he'd made a tactical error, and possibly a life-long enemy, with those last few words. "You _taught_ him?" Flay shrieked. _"You_ taught my dad's murderer? _You're as responsible for his death as if you'd done it yourself!"_

Oops.

The accusation didn't faze him, exactly; Falcon had experienced worse, most notably at Junius Seven. No emotional shock was _ever_ going to trump the Bloody Valentine for him. What _did_ disturb Falcon was that he'd just lost any chance of winning Flay over to his side... and more importantly (she was, after all, of little consequence to him under normal circumstances), he might have just created a powerful enemy. Falcon had little doubt that, as George Allster's daughter, Flay wielded a certain amount of influence in the Earth Alliance's hierarchy, and he doubted the influence would have died with her father's death.

Which meant Flay Allster had the power to make Falcon's mission more difficult, which was something he most earnestly wished to avoid. The odds were against him to begin with; the right -or wrong- words in certain ears could complicate things immeasurably.

Well, no help for it. Now it was time for Falcon to make a tactical retreat; no matter how bad his flight might look to Flay -she might take it as admitting his guilt- it didn't really matter. He saw no way he could possibly make things worse.

So, ignoring Flay's continued ranting, Falcon vanished in a flutter of trench coat, seeking out a more congenial atmosphere elsewhere in the ship... just as Kira Yamato arrived on the scene.

Mir watched her friend enter with the sort of morbid fascination with which one observes a car wreck that is inevitable, and occurring right before one's eyes. _Oh, no,_ she thought, in a curiously detached manner. _If Falcon's words were bad, the sight of Kira..._ Mir had heard about Kira's promise to Flay, that everything would be all right, and now she watched in silence, knowing that those words were about to come back to bite him.

_"You!"_ Flay shrieked, struggling in Sai's grip like an animal attempting to escape. "You lied to me! You promised me everything was going to be all right, but you failed! You lied, and now my dad's dead, because of you and that ZAFT pilot!" Her lips twisted in hate. "You didn't even_ try _to fight, did you?" she accused. "No, you wouldn't have... because_ you're_ a Coordinator, too!"

Flay shrieked, struggling in Sai's grip like an animal attempting to escape. "You lied to me! You promised me everything was going to be all right, but you failed! You lied, and now my dad's dead, because of you and that ZAFT pilot!" Her lips twisted in hate. "You didn't even to fight, did you?" she accused. "No, you wouldn't have... because a Coordinator, too!" 

Time seemed to freeze as that shot hit home, and Mir watched Kira, torn between concern for him and horror at Flay's accusation. _Flay, how _could_ you?_

Kira shook his head, trying to clear it. "I... I..." Suddenly, he whirled around and raced from the Infirmary, leaving a ranting, snarling Flay behind him.

Mir started to follow him, getting as far as the corridor. "Kira, wait!"

Falcon, leaning against the bulkhead next to the hatch, touched her shoulder and slowly shook his head. "Let him go, amigo," he said quietly. "Kira needs to sort things out by himself, at least for now."

"And when he's done as much as he can by himself?" Mir demanded. "Then what, Falcon? Who can help him? None of us have ever been through anything like this..."

"Not quite true," he contradicted softly. "I know what it's like to set yourself a task -an important task, where lives are at stake- and fail. I've seen it from Flay's position, and Kira's; I've _been_ there. You try to save a life, and you fail... and others blame you, or you blame yourself. All you can do... is move on. Dwelling on the past won't change it... but you can bloody well make sure those who die do not do so in vain."

She looked at him oddly. "That's what you're trying to do, isn't it? You're trying to make sure those whose lives were sacrificed in _your_ past didn't do so in vain."

Falcon nodded. "Yes. I fight for Endymion... and the Bloody Valentine." He squeezed her shoulder. "Excuse me, amigo. There are things I must attend to."

"One more thing," Mir called after him, as he moved to follow Kira. "Just what is it you're fighting _against?"_

The one-eyed pilot paused. "Patrick Zala, and his dreams of genocide," he said simply, and then he was gone.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Deck

* * *

Kira shut the hatch behind himself, and slammed his fists against the tough viewport. _Why?_ he shouted inside his mind. _Why did it have to end like this? Why can't anyone _understand? 

The look of hate in Flay's eyes had shaken him badly, not to mention adding to his own load of psychological baggage. It was getting to be too much. _Traitor,_ he thought in despair. _That's what Garcia called Falcon, so maybe I am, too... I fought against Athrun, against my own kind, but I couldn't save Flay's father, either... Urgh!_

Kira let out a scream of rage, sorrow, and despair, the cry of anguish echoing against the bulkheads much as Falcon's earlier rampage had... but this time, someone heard.

Haro had opened the hatch again, so Lacus Clyne had once again been wandering the corridors. She'd headed for the observation deck in part to see if Falcon was once again railing at himself, and the sounds she'd heard had seemed to confirm it. But now she entered, and found Kira against the viewport, silent tears trailing down his face.

"Mr. Yamato?" she called. "Are you all right?"

Kira looked up quickly, surprised by her sudden entrance. "Miss Lacus? What are you doing here?" _How did she get out again...?_ He thought about asking, but decided he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"I was going for a walk," Lacus explained, "or Haro was, anyway; and we happened to be headed in this direction when I heard shouting. I was concerned, so I thought perhaps I should see if anything was wrong." Coming close, beside him at the viewport, she raised a hand, as if to wipe the tears from his face.

He quickly drew back, and swept a sleeve across his eyes. "You really shouldn't be here," Kira said, trying to cover his confused emotions. "You should go back to your quarters before someone sees you; this _is_ an Earth Forces ship, after all."

That didn't disturb her in the slightest. As far as she could tell, only one person on the _Archangel_ actively had anything against Coordinators, and only one would try to use her for anything.

So instead, Lacus examined the young man's face. Clearly, his emotions were in turmoil; she wondered why. "That fighting seems to be over," she commented, as an opener.

Kira nodded. "Yeah... and it's thanks to you, you know."

"So why... do you seem so sad?"

"Well, the truth is..." He hesitated. "The truth is, I'm getting tired of all these battles," he said finally. "I... I never wanted anything to do with the war..."

Lacus watched him intently. "Do you regret the part you've taken in _Archangel_'s survival?"

Kira blinked, surprised, then emphatically shook his head. "No, not really... I regret the circumstances that it made it necessary, but I don't regret _doing_ it... I just wish I didn't have to."

She nodded. "You sound much like Commander DiFalco, you know."

His expression turned sheepish. "Well... he _did_ talk me into flying the Strike, in the first place. And showed me how neither of us had any choice about what we were doing; that it _had_ to be done... But still, I can't understand how he can do this so easily..."

"It isn't easy, Kira," Falcon said, entering the compartment. "That's the answer. My calm exterior may suggest that it's easy... but like I told you, I'm capable of fear." He crossed his arms. "Flay's words got to you, didn't they, amigo?"

Kira nodded. "Yeah... I... I should have... There must have been _something_ I could have done!" he burst out. "There must have been _some_ way to save Flay's father!"

The ace sighed. "Listen to me, Kira. Maybe you could have done something, maybe you couldn't. But the past is past; you can't change it." He seemed to come to a decision. "Let me give you an example. You know where I was, on the Bloody Valentine? You know what I did?"

"You were in the cockpit, right?" Kira guessed, uncertain of where the other pilot was going with this. "Fighting against the Earth Forces?"

Surprisingly, it was Lacus that spoke next. "Yes, he was... but there was more to it than that."

Falcon nodded. "Yes. Kira, what few people realize is that the Bloody Valentine has an additional burden for me." He took a deep breath. "I had the Moebius carrying the nuclear missile in my sights, just moments before he launched... and I missed. The entire colony, gone, just because _I_ missed." He clenched a fist. "Over half my team died in the explosion; we were closest, and I wasn't the only one born in Junius Seven. I was just outside the blast radius when the nuke finally went off, along with my then-commander; that's how I ended up as second-in-command, and from there with a team of my own."

Kira blinked, assimilating this new information. More pieces of the puzzle that was Ken DiFalco fell into place, and certain things clicked. _No wonder he's so cold... He's lost so much, he can't afford to care anymore..._

He wasn't quite correct, but neither was he entirely wrong...

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly.

Falcon shrugged. "As I said, the past is past. What I'm trying to tell you, Kira, is that sometimes, no matter how good you are, no matter that you do everything right, things will go wrong. The Bloody Valentine will haunt me to the end of my days, but I can accept, at least intellectually, that there was nothing more that I could have done." He gave his protégé a penetrating look. "Just as _you_ could have done no more to save George Allster. Lacus' fiancé kept you occupied with a threat you couldn't afford to ignore."

Kira nodded at first, slowly, and the jerked, as something else the pilot had said registered. "Wha? Lacus' fiancé?"

Lacus, too, was surprised, but for a slightly different reason. "What? Athrun was out there?"

Falcon raised a hand. "One question at a time, please. Yes, Lacus, Athrun was out there; he pilots the Aegis these days, one of the mobile suits ZAFT stole from Heliopolis. He was, shall we say, less than pleased by Ensign Badgiruel's tactics." His gaze flicked over to Kira. "And yes, amigo, Athrun _is_ Lacus' fiancé. I heard about it not long before I left the PLANTs; the son of Patrick Zala becoming, by parental arrangement, the fiancé of the daughter of Siegel Clyne. It was all over the news for a week." Actually, it had been a touch longer than that; Lacus Clyne was quite famous in the PLANTs.

_I'd have thought Kira would have heard about it,_ he mused._ On the other hand, he didn't know Athrun was with ZAFT, either; guess the two haven't kept in touch._

Lacus sighed. "It's just so sad that you and Athrun are forced to fight one another," she said quietly. "You're both good people; you shouldn't have to endure such pain."

Kira shrugged. "Well... I'm not the only one."

Falcon immediately caught his drift. "That may be, Kira, but Dearka and I at least understand each other a little better; maybe because we've kept in touch a little better than you two have. He doesn't know what I'm up to, and frankly, I think he thinks I'm out of my mind, but Dearka realizes that I sincerely believe I'm acting in the best interests of the PLANTs. Athrun..." He shrugged. "It's hard to say. I helped train the guy, and it always seemed to me that he was fighting more for the Bloody Valentine than anything else. It was personal, for him."

"That sounds like Athrun, all right." Kira lowered his gaze. "He told me he lost his mother there; and with his father a high-ranking official..."

"High-ranking is putting it mildly." The ace glanced at Lacus. "Patrick is still leader of ZAFT, right?"

She nodded. "Yes, he is. He and my father have begun to disagree on certain matters, but Committee Chairman Zala is still a valued member of the Council."

"I'm sure." Inwardly, Falcon was disgusted. _Chairman, if you had any sense, you'd get the ball rolling and have your old friend removed from his position. Patrick's radical faction is gaining strength in the Council... which may lead to the very thing I fear the most..._

Unaware of Falcon's thoughts, Lacus turned to gaze out the viewport. "If only this war would end... soon."

The ace and the accidental pilot exchanged glances, and Falcon nodded slightly. "I'm working on it," he informed the pop star. "Just give me a little time for my plans to reach fruition..." He suddenly shook his head, as if realizing he'd said more than he'd intended. "If you two will excuse me, I have more planning to do."

With a flutter of trench coat, the pilot was gone, and Lacus turned to Kira. "I don't remember Falcon being like that," she said softly. "Something is truly frightening him."

Kira nodded. "I know. He won't tell any of us what it is, though; not even Lieutenant La Flaga." He looked over at the hatch through which Falcon had exited. "None of us really have any idea what he's trying to do..."

Unknown to either them or Falcon, Kuzzey Buskirk had heard the whole conversation, and now he made his own discreet exit.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Falcon's Quarters

* * *

In near-total darkness, Falcon worked his pocket computer like a master pianist. The _Archangel_'s computer might have been better suited to the task, but he couldn't risk leaving any traces of this work where the crew might find it. They... would not approve. 

He was privately certain that Kira would soon make an attempt to return Lacus to ZAFT, and now Falcon had every intention of aiding him. The girl had, with her agreement to pass the data along to Sparky, become a small but important piece of his plan; if the data reached his old comrade, another, even more important part of the plan would be set in motion.

But in order for Kira to succeed, certain obstacles had to be overcome. _Archangel_'s security systems were formidable, and Kira, for all his computer programming skills, was not a hacker. That meant Falcon needed to take a hand... but very, very carefully.

Providing Kira with a means to bypass security was the only assistance the ex-ZAFT flyer could give him before the rescue was actually underway. In order for the larger plan to succeed, Falcon could not afford to jeopardize his position on the _Archangel._ He had the distinct feeling that they would somehow play a critical role themselves, so he needed to be careful.

Once Kira had actually launched, however, the situation would change, bringing another set of variables into play. Under those circumstances, Falcon could legitimately launch, and his CGUE, while not as powerful as the damaged Raptor, would at least make ZAFT -and more specifically, Rau Le Creuset- think twice about trying to take advantage of the situation. Especially now that he'd recovered Tempest's high-tech blade.

Finally, after an hour of code-writing and -cracking, Falcon closed down the pocket computer, shut down the sole active light, and exited his cabin.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Kira's Quarters

* * *

Kira lay on his bunk in the dark, thinking. The revelations of his conversation with Lacus and Falcon -especially the news that Lacus was Athrun's fiancé- had made him reevaluate what he should be doing. He knew he had to protect the _Archangel,_ and his friends... but it now came to him that, perhaps, there was something else he should be doing, too. 

_Lacus shouldn't be kept prisoner like this,_ he thought angrily._ She's supposed to be a guest, not a POW; she's a human being, not a bargaining chip. They had no right to use her like that._

Unfortunately, Kira didn't have the slightest idea what he could do about it. He'd need transportation, most likely meaning the Strike -Raptor was in urgent need of repair, and Falcon's CGUE was reputedly rigged to explode if unauthorized access was attempted- and that could present a problem. He was good with computers, but if there were security systems set up...

A knock came at the hatch; Kira ignored it, not really wanting to talk to anybody just then. Even when it was repeated, he didn't move.

Then, to his surprise, the hatch beeped, accepting the authorized access code, and slid open. "Wha-?"

"Good evening, Kira," Falcon said quietly, closing the hatch behind him. Strangely, he seemed not at all inconvenienced by the darkness. "I thought I'd find you here."

Kira was too surprised to be irritated at the intrusion. "Falcon, what are you doing here? In the middle of the night, of all times?"

The ace smiled thinly, unseen in the dimness. "You want to get Lacus out, don't you?"

His younger friend started in greater surprise. "How'd you-"

"Come now, Kira, you're not that hard to read. Besides, you remind me of myself, a year or so ago, and that's what _I'd_ have done." Falcon tapped his computer. "You have the motive, I have the means. I can muddle the security cameras, release the hatch locks along the way, and override any security on the Strike. I doubt that last will be much of a problem, thought; why bother putting extra security on it, when you and I are the only people aboard who are even capable of flying it?"

Kira sat up. "You're serious about this, Falcon?"

"Yeah. But listen, Kira: all I can do for now is override security. I can't afford to do anything overt at this point, because I don't dare do anything that could jeopardize my position on this ship." Falcon's voice was as cool as ever, but Kira thought he could detect a slightly more serious tone than usual. "Believe me, there's more at stake than Lacus' fate here. However, even she wasn't a decent human being who doesn't deserve this, she has one other important quality: I need her. Another part of my plan can only unfold if she reaches the PLANTs safely."

"I understand." Actually, Kira didn't; but he'd learned to trust Falcon's judgment, these last few days on the _Archangel._ He was, quite clearly, up to something, and it seemed in the best interests of everything to let it proceed. Besides, Falcon's intentions coincided with his own, this time. "When do we start?"

Falcon opened the hatch again. "Now, while most people are still asleep. It'll take time to organize a response." He gave his friend a measuring look. "You do realize they'll court martial you for this, right?"

Kira smiled. "You know what they say, Falcon: sometimes the right thing to do isn't the right thing to do."

The ace gave another ghostly smile. "You're learning, kid." _Though where he came across a copy of Falcon's Lessons of War... Wait a minute; Mu probably has a copy, and it'd be just like him to show Kira.._

* * *

_Archangel, _Corridor

* * *

As they moved cautiously through the darkened corridors, Kira gave the one-eyed pilot a questioning look. "By the way, you said you wouldn't be able to do anything overt _before_ I launch, right? What about after?" 

"After," Falcon explained, "I'll have the perfect excuse to launch: keeping an eye on you, and making sure ZAFT doesn't try anything funny. Besides... I'm sure Mu and Murrue will understand if I want a crack at Rau. I hate that bastard's guts, and I've never bothered to hide it."

"Hmm..." Kira could believe that. According to Mu, though Falcon and Le Creuset had served in the same team from the time of the blockade in 69 till just after the Battle of Jachin Due in 70, the two had never liked each other; and for some reason, following the Battle of Endymion, that dislike heated up to outright hatred on Falcon's part.

The pilot paused by a bulkhead terminal, and jacked his pocket computer into it. "Here goes," he muttered under his breath. "Inserting virus... now."

Falcon was good. As far as the crew was concerned, nothing happened; but within _Archangel_'s mainframe, programs altered themselves, disconnecting security measures and feeding the cameras recorded footage. For the next half hour, Kira would be able to move with relative safety through the ship.

The ace turned to Kira. "Okay, kid, you've got half an hour. Make it count."

The younger teen nodded. "Thanks, Falcon. I will."

"Good luck." Falcon withdrew his computer from the terminal, tucked into his coat, and moved silently away from the scene.

After he'd departed, Kira continued on his way to Lacus' quarters. He wished he still had Falcon's company for this, but understood that there were limits to what he could risk. Besides, he could handle this himself.

He reached the appropriate hatch, and hesitated. _If this doesn't work... Well, no more time for that. I've gone this far, and I can't turn back._ Kira opened the hatch.

The first thing to notice him was the pink Haro. "What's up?" it questioned in its simpleminded -and irritating- way.

That got Lacus' attention, and she blearily sat up. "Mr. Yamato...? Is something wrong?" She was groggy, with no idea what the pilot who'd taken her aboard might be doing here at this hour.

Kira raised a finger to his lips. "Please, keep your voice down," he whispered. "I'm getting you out of here."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Falcon's Quarters

* * *

Falcon watched through his computer feed -the only terminal on the ship getting the true signal- as Kira led Lacus through the ship's darkened side passages. _Good, Kira,_ he thought approvingly. _Only take the obvious route when it's so obvious no one will expect it... Just like Operation Spit Break._ He shook his head. _Now why did _that_ come to mind? That plan hasn't even been approved by the Council, last I heard... _And in the position he'd once held, he heard a lot. 

He frowned abruptly, as he noticed something amiss in his carefully- considered plan. Sai and Mir were out and about, going along a corridor that would shortly connect with the one Kira and Lacus were traveling. "This could be a problem," he murmured, tapping keys. "Is there any way to divert them...? No, didn't think so." Falcon hissed to himself; there was nothing -well, almost nothing- he hated more than to see a well-made plan go awry.

Well, that's the breaks in this business. As they say, no plan survives contact with the enemy. What I hadn't considered was that it might not survive contact with a friend...

As anticipated, the two pairs soon ran into each other; but Kira had seen his friends coming, and got Lacus behind a bulkhead support before they could notice her.

"Hey, guys," he said innocently, on the screen. "Didn't think you'd be up this late."

Sai raised his eyebrows. "Likewise, Kira; you're not usually wandering around this late, either."

"Couldn't sleep?" Mir questioned.

"Yeah, something like that." _Come on,_ Kira thought urgently. _Just go away, please, before you see something you shouldn't..._

Too late.

Mir blinked, catching a glimpse of the Pink Princess' distinct dress. "Wha...?"

Kira winced, while Lacus came out from concealment and offered a shy smile. "Um, good evening."

Sai's gaze went back and forth between them, finally settling on Kira. "Kira," he began, "just what are you doing...?"

The Coordinator glanced away. "I can't let this continue, Sai. Lacus isn't a tool; I have to get her out of here before something like that happens again." He raised his eyes, meeting Sai's gaze. "Please, just leave, and forget you ever saw us."

Falcon quietly cursed to himself as the two exchanged glances. "This," he muttered, "is _not_ convenient."

Mir finally nodded, and Sai turned back to Kira. "We'll help."

Kira blinked. "You will?"

"Of course. And besides," the student with the orange glasses added with a smile, "I really don't want to see Falcon kill Ensign Badgiruel; which I think he might, if we don't get Miss Lacus out of here."

_You have no idea,_ the Coordinator thought. Aloud, he said, "Thanks, guys. Now, we'd better get going; we don't have much time."

The four began moving again, much to Falcon's relief, and Mir gave Kira a sidelong look. "Not much time? Let me guess: Falcon's wrapped up in this somehow. Computer virus, right?"

Lacus smothered a laugh at the pilot's reaction. "Uh, I'm really not at liberty to say just now..."

Sai chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Kira. The secret's safe with us."

"Thanks, Sai."

Falcon's muscles relaxed. In this case, the new variable was _not_ a threat to the plan. _Actually, this could be to my advantage; if nothing else, their aid will make Murrue, Mu, and -especially- Ensign Badgiruel less likely to look for another suspect..._

Noticing that the foursome were nearing the pilots' locker room, Falcon shut down his computer, doffed his trench coat, and removed his uniform jacket, replacing them with his flight suit... carefully connected to the socket in his chest, of course.

Within moments, his cabin was empty once more.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Falcon, now ostensibly doing some late-night work on his CGUE in case of emergency, surreptitiously watched as Kira and Lacus entered from one of the upper hatches, accompanied by Sai and Mir. _Here we go... Don't screw this one up, kid. You've only got one chance._

Kira, now in his flightsuit, pushed himself over to the Strike, giving it a quick once-over. "All clear," he called after a moment.

Sai and Mir guided a now-spacesuited Lacus over to the machine, totally unaware that they were being watched. "Good luck, Miss Lacus."

"Thank you," Lacus replied, entering the cockpit. "I hope we meet again someday."

"Maybe we will," he murmured.

"Hopefully, _after_ the war is over," Mir added. "If we survive it, that is. Take care."

Sai glanced at Kira, who was now powering up the Strike's systems. "Kira, you'll be back, right?"

Kira looked at him, startled. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You'll be coming back to the _Archangel,_ right? To us?" Sai, having heard Kuzzey's report about Kira's connection to the Aegis' pilot, was genuinely concerned. "You won't... be tempted to stay behind, or anything?"

"Of course not," Kira told readily, unaware of the reason for his friend's concern. "You know I wouldn't do that. I'll be right back, don't worry." He hit a couple more switches. "Sorry, guys, but I've really got to get going now, while there's still time."

Mir nodded. "Good luck, Kira. We'll be waiting for you."

Strike's hatch sealed, and the machine got into motion... just as a lower hatch opened, admitting Kojiro Murdoch and a couple of his mechanics. "Huh? Hey, what's going on here? You're not supposed to be launching!"

Sai and Mir were making rapid and -hopefully- discrete exits, while Falcon stuck his head out of the CGUE's cockpit. He didn't bother to affect surprise; it would, in fact, be as out of character as his earlier outburst. "Looks like Kira's getting Lacus out," he told the mechanic. "I wouldn't recommend getting in his way."

"I'm not stupid," Murdoch retorted. "I know better than to get in the way of that much battle armor. But what about you? Aren't _you_ gonna do something about it?"

Falcon pulled on his helmet. "I'll be launching to chase him as soon as I get clearance from the Bridge, don't worry."

Without further ado, he ducked back into the cockpit.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Murrue _had_ been relaxing in her chair, idly considering what to do next. Until the alarms went off, anyway. 

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"It's the Strike, Ma'am," Natarle responded from CIC, while Chandra and Tonomura rapidly typed commands, trying to figure out what was happening. "He's launching!"

Mu's face appeared on a monitor. _"He's getting the girl out, Captain; too late to stop him now."_ He shrugged. _"Looks like he planned it pretty well; knew the kid was smart."_

"Too smart," Natarle muttered. "Do we have anything ready to go after him?"

_"Falcon's already down there, prepping his CGUE,"_ the Hawk answered._ "Apparently, he was doing some routine maintenance when this came up."_

"Convenient," Murrue said to herself. _Too convenient. You had a part in this, didn't you, Falcon? Not that we'll ever find a scrap of evidence. You're too careful for that, aren't you, Falcon?_ "Well, we'd better send him out," she said aloud. "What's he got for weapons? Anything that can stand up to the Aegis, if the need arises?"

"He's got that particle cannon it was equipped with when he brought it aboard, though Mr. Murdoch is still outfitting the laser sword Falcon retrieved from Tempest's machine to work with it. He's good to go."

"All right. Give Falcon the order to launch; and Lieutenant, you'd better suit up and head out, too."

Mu saluted. _"Aye aye."_

His image disappeared, and Sophia muttered an imprecation under her breath. "Falcon had something to do with this, didn't he?"

Murrue nodded slowly. "Probably, but we'll never prove it, and you know it." She smiled wearily. "You know him: always has his own agenda, whether he'll admit it or not. In this case, though, I suppose he's just being altruistic."

"Maybe..." Sophia (correctly) had her doubts, but she let it pass.

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"We've confirmed a mobile suit launch from the legged ship, Commander," a crewman reported. "One of their G-weapons... Wait a second, we've got a second launch. A... CGUE?" 

"That would be Commander DiFalco," Le Creuset murmured. "Reports did say he vanished along with his machine; he must have stashed it somewhere, and picked it up along the way... I assume the G-weapon is the Strike?"

"Yes, Sir. The CGUE appears to be pursing it... I think. Might be an escort, but it looks like it was launched to pursue."

"Hmm. So either Falcon has another trick up his sleeve, or the Strike pilot is pulling something on his own." The commander steepled his fingers, deep in thought. "Man battlestations, but don't initiate combat just yet. Something is going on here, and I want to see what." _This is partly Falcon's doing... I know it._

"Receiving a transmission from the Strike, Captain."

Ades nodded to the Com officer, and turned to Le Creuset. "Commander?"

"Put it through," he ordered. "I want to hear what the impetuous young pilot has to say."

_"This is the pilot of the Strike."_ Kira's voice came through clearly._ "I have Miss Lacus Clyne with me; I'm here to return her to you. However, I will do so only under these conditions: that your ship cut engines, and that we be met only by the pilot of the Aegis."_

"This must be a trap," Ades said, frowning. "They'd never let such a bargaining chip go."

"No." Le Creuset shook his head. "No, Captain, I don't think so. I sense Falcon's hand in this, and one thing he would never do is use a civilian as a tool. Still, he's also not above using such a situation to his advantage, if someone _else_ is doing it..." He sighed. "That's the problem with trying to out-think the man: he's brilliant, and very devious." For once, he actually didn't really know what to do.

Athrun solved the problem for him. _"Commander,"_ he called from the Aegis' cockpit, _"please, let me go out there."_

"But we don't even know if Miss Clyne is aboard it," Ades protested. "It could still be a trap."

_"I'm willing to risk it,"_ the pilot said firmly.

Le Creuset shrugged. "Very well, go ahead."

_"Thank you, Sir,"_ Athrun said gratefully, and winked out.

Ades turned to his commander. "Are you certain this is a good idea, Sir? As I said, it could well be a trap; and you yourself said it's hard to predict Commander DiFalco."

Le Creuset smiled. "True enough. But think, Ades: this could also be seen as an opportunity for us, as well. Cut engines, but prepare to start them again at my command; and ready my CGUE for launch." _All right, Falcon. Soon, you'll have what you always wanted: a chance at me. Which of us will survive?_

* * *

Space, Between _Archangel_ and _Vesalius_

* * *

_Now we find out if I'm brilliant or stupid, _Falcon thought, checking his weapons for the tenth time since launch._ Right now, I'd say it's even money either way. Which _probably_ means brilliant; the last time I bet on fifty-fifty odds, Halberton ended up owing me money..._

Not that he was counting on anything. No plan survived contact with the enemy, and whatever Kira might think, Athrun Zala _was_ the enemy. Not to mention Rau Le Creuset, whom Falcon trusted not at all.

Kira was less pessimistic. "Looks like it's working, Falcon. How does it look on your end?"

"Hey, I'm supposing to be pursing you, not helping you, remember?" Falcon gave a ghost of a smile; though if they hadn't been on a private frequency, he'd have been less sanguine about the whole thing. "You're right," he went on, "it looks good; but while I expect your friend is being level with us, I'm not so sure about his boss."

"That's what _you're_ here for, right?"

"True." The pilot's single eye narrowed. "If I get the chance, I am going to kill that man..."

Soon enough, the X303 Aegis came close, verniers reversing thrust to slow the machine to a stop relative to the Strike. "Kira?" its pilot called. "Is that you?"

"Athrun." Strike's rifle came up, pointed directly at Aegis' hatch. "Open your cockpit!"

Athrun complied, showing both that he was alone and that he was willing to risk having a beam shot straight into his gut. "Is she with you?"

In response, Kira opened his own cockpit, and looked at Lacus. "Say something," he told her. "Athrun can't see your face from here; he has to know that it's really you."

She nodded in understanding. "Hello, Athrun!" she called. "I'm very glad to see you!"

"It's Lacus," Athrun confirmed, relieved.

"Then get ready to receive her." Kira gently pushed his passenger out of the cockpit, imparting enough momentum for her to reach the Aegis.

_All right, looks like _something_ is going according to plan, at least,_ Falcon thought._ We just might pull this off._

Athrun caught Lacus, and turned to Kira. "Thanks, Kira," he called.

His old friend nodded. "Make sure she gets to ZAFT territory safely, Athrun."

"I will."

Lacus nodded to Athrun, and looked back at Kira. "Thank you for everything you've done, Mr. Yamato! And Athrun, you as well." Somehow, she knew Falcon didn't need to be thanked. He knew what she'd have said, and he hadn't been doing it solely for her... which reminded her of the data she carried.

Now Athrun hesitated, looking back at the Strike. "Kira," he said at last, "You come with us, too! There's no more reason for you to remain with the Earth Forces!"

Kira's eyes went wide. "Athrun... I..."

Memories went through his head. _"You'll be coming back to the _Archangel,_ right? To us?"_

_"To protect that which you wish to protect, _you_ may have to do something you don't want to."_

He looked over at the CGUE, remembering Falcon's words, then turned back to Athrun. "I'm sorry, Athrun, but... I can't. There are still people on the ship that I feel obligated to protect." He twitched the vernier controls, pushing the Strike back. "My friends are still there!"

Athrun looked away, pained. "Then I don't have a choice, Kira," he said softly. "The next time we meet in battle, I'll do my best to shoot you down!"

"Same here," Kira whispered.

Strike's cockpit sealed, and he turned away, moving back toward the _Archangel._

It was the moment Rau Le Creuset had been waiting for. "Now, start up the engines, Ades!" Simultaneous with the order, he hit the control to launch his CGUE out of the catapult.

Instantly, Falcon drew his sword in a smooth motion. "This is my cue. Kira, get back to the ship; I'll handle this."

Mu's Zero, finally catching up to them, assumed a position to the Strike's left. "Do as he says," he ordered. "You and I are returning to the _Archangel."_

Kira was reacting quite as well as his mentor to this turn of events. "Lieutenant...?"

"Did you really think they'd just sit back and watch?" The Hawk was disgusted. "Now c'mon; Falcon can take it from here."

_So the Strike is getting away,_ Le Creuset thought._ Pity; but I still have a shot at Falcon, and he's almost as dangerous to us as the Strike and legged ship combined._

He keyed his radio. "Athrun, return to the _Vesalius_ with Miss Clyne immediately!"

"Commander...?" Confused, Athrun obeyed orders; puzzled or not, he didn't want to be anywhere near the coming confrontation.

As usual, Falcon's introduction did not consist of words. The ascending wail did the job just as well, and also clearly announced his intentions; though his drawn weapon didn't hurt, either.

"So, you've come to block my path, have you?" Le Creuset chuckled. "This time, we're both in CGUEs, Falcon; time to see which of us is really the better pilot."

"Yeah." Falcon's eye narrowed. "Come at me, Rau. We'll settle this in battle."

They both had blades out, and they clashed almost instantly, before breaking away. Falcon followed up by unleashing a burst from his shield-gatling, which Le Creuset's machine took on _its_ shield.

"We'll be at this all day, Falcon," the masked man grunted, swinging at the gray CGUE's head (he knew better than to try to use his machine gun against the Grimaldi Falcon). "Why don't you just surrender, so we can talk this over?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Rau," Falcon replied, blocking the slash with his arm and receiving a gash in it for his troubles. "You know as well as I do why I left; there's no way I'm going back."

"Pity. You were the best, Falcon." Le Creuset wasn't kidding. Another attack from Falcon cost his CGUE its left hand and the tip of the shield-gatling, rendering it useless. _Now_ he was getting nervous.

"Yeah, that's right. Except for one thing: I'm _still_ the best." Falcon gripped the sword in both hands, and struck Le Creuset's with all the might in the huge hands.

The white CGUE's blade was wrenched from its remaining hand, sending it spiraling off into space, and the commander knew he was in trouble. But he still hand one weapon left.

He reached back for his machine gun, only to find a beam going right through it. "Back off!" Kira shouted from near the _Archangel._ "Just let us go!"

Le Creuset cursed at himself; he hadn't expected the Strike to try an attack in this situation. "We'll finish this another day, Falcon!" he called, and reversed course, back toward his own ship.

"I've heard that before, Rau," Falcon murmured. "C'mon, Mu, Kira," he said, keying his radio. "Time to RTB. Mission accomplished."

Now Falcon's plan was one small step closer to completion.

* * *

Author's note: Lacus Clyne has returned to ZAFT… and taken with her another piece of Falcon's overall plan. What is he up to, and why? 

Before I get to the responses, I have one question: can anyone tell me what the name of the song from Phase 40 is, when the _Kusanagi_ is launching? I've managed to track down Meteor, but it's a little difficult to find a song on a soundtrack if I don't know the name of it.

RVD, I'm not precisely sure if what you said meant you liked the chapter; but in any case, I'll try to have things a little more original form here on out. I'll be inserting a few things that definitely weren't in the series starting with the events of Phase 13; it'll get even stranger from there.

NukeDawg, a "huge" amount of hate is about right; and later on, it probably won't get much better. I'm planning an occasion where Falcon causes her some interference later. Actually, probably more than one…

I'm looking forward to your next update, as always; your story is getting more intriguing all the time.

Infinite Freedom, I do not have the slightest idea exactly which chapter will first feature the Preybird. I know when it'll be chronologically -just as I know exactly where and when Raptor will be destroyed- but I can't say exactly which chapter that'll be. I've given up on predicting how many chapters it'll take me to get to any given scene.

As to your other question, I'll write a one-shot about that sequence if I ever happen to think up the particulars. I never really thought much about it, myself; it just seemed to be the sort of thing one would do at the end of a war, I guess.

Ominae, that may not be the last "variation" mobile suit Tempest will turn up in. It certainly won't be the last MS, period; there's the desert to consider, for one thing…

Centurious, glad you liked it. By the way, how's your story coming?

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, now you know who won the battle. And, of course, this is far from the last confrontation the two will have…

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, having never played Halo, I can honestly say that taking any ideas from it never occurred to me. Matter of fact, I'm not really an X Box fan at all; don't have one, never played one, though I've heard bad things about its controllers.

Looks like I've said everything that needed to be said. Let me know if the chapter was any good. -Solid Shark


	9. Chapter 9: Last Obstacle

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Officer's Lounge, February 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

Falcon relaxed in a chair, feeling quite pleased with himself; though outwardly, he looked as emotionless as ever. _We pulled it off,_ he thought to himself. _Lacus is out, and my data is on its way to Sparky. He'll know what to do with it... and maybe, just maybe, we can stop Patrick's plan before it begins. _If_ I can keep the _Archangel_ safe..._

The so-called "legged ship" was not yet a part of Falcon's grand design, but he strongly suspected she was going to play a key role in what he was attempting. Her crew was just too fundamentally decent to be Earth Forces, in his mind.

He snorted to himself then. _Oh, sure, Mr. Deserted-From-ZAFT-'Cause-You-Were-Working-On-A-Weapon-Of-Mass-Destruction. They may be too decent to be with the Earth Forces, but they're _also_ too decent to be with today's ZAFT._

The mission to return Lacus Clyne to ZAFT hands, while unsanctioned, had been a complete success, and they'd even made it safely back to the ship afterwards. To be sure, Kira had immediately been shuffled off to the Captain's office for a court martial, but Falcon had studied Earth Forces regulations in-depth. Kira was guilty of a few minor infractions, but Natarle Badgiruel was guilty of considerably worse. They couldn't punish him very severely -if at all- without having the pot call the kettle black. _And just where,_ he thought idly, _did _that_ saying come from?_

Falcon himself had avoided disciplinary action completely, of course. He had little doubt that Murrue and the other officers suspected exactly what role he'd played in the incident, but without evidence, there wasn't much they could do about it. Besides which, he strongly suspected the only one truly irritated by Lacus' rescue was Natarle; Murrue and Mu -and even, he grudgingly admitted, Sophia- were not likely to approve of the tactics used in the last battle.

The pilot drew his computer from a pocket of his trench coat, and brought up a secure file. Using a light pen, he crossed out one line, and smiled slightly to himself. _One objective complete; now, if she can just get that data to Sparky, we'll be set... except that completion of this requires the completion of something else... solving the one problem keeping my nightmare from becoming real._

The compartment's hatch opened suddenly, and Falcon quickly slipped his computer back into his coat. "Thought I might find you here, Falcon," the visitor said.

"Is that a fact." It wasn't a question on the part of the one-eyed pilot. He and Mu La Flaga had fought against each other enough in months past that they could anticipate each other to some extent.

"You seem okay with the fact that Kira disobeyed orders and took Lacus Clyne to that ZAFT ship," Mu observed. "Thus forcing you to chase him, and then fight Le Creuset."

"True."

"It doesn't bother you that what he did could be considered giving aid and comfort to the enemy?"

"Nope."

Mu shook his head. "You're just totally unconcerned by the whole thing, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

_This guy is not human,_ the Hawk thought._ He's a computer trapped in a human body, and determined to prove it._ "That little jaunt was your idea, wasn't it? It helped your objective along somehow."

Falcon turned to face his brother, slowly raising an eyebrow. "Well..." he said slowly. "I could tell you... but then I'd have to shoot you."

Mu snorted. "Yeah. This from the guy who hates guns."

"I got shot at an impressionable age," the ace said simply. "But remember Artemis. And if that doesn't convince you..." He gestured to his backpack, floating just above the deck, next to his chair. "Take a look."

The older man did so, and felt his own eyebrows go up. There was a bundle of disassembled components in there; they were obsolete, enough so that he didn't recognize the exact model, but he knew in general terms what it was. "A sniper rifle?"

"More to me than meets the eye, brother." Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "'Course, just because I know how to use it doesn't mean I'm any good with it."

"Hmm..." That comment at least made a certain amount of sense to Mu; the field-stripped rifle was an antique 7.62 millimeter PSG-1, from the twentieth A.D. That gave him the impression that Falcon carried it around as a collector's item, rather than a serious weapon. _Makes more sense than the notion that he actually _uses_ it,_ he thought. _The pistol I'll buy; not a sniper rifle. Guess the kid has some human qualities after all, though sentimentality isn't the kind of thing I'd have expected. _"You don't strike me as the sentimental type," he said aloud.

A shrug. "I have hidden depths."

"I bet."

"And it makes a handy club."

Mu, gauging the weight of the enormous rifle, decided to take the remark at face value. The thing was just under 150 centimeters from stock to muzzle, with a weight to match. "Must not be easy to use in zero-g, though."

"One reason I prefer swords. Besides, that gun wouldn't be much good after whacking someone over the head with it."

The Hawk shook his head. Either Falcon really didn't understand that his comments might be amusing -which would mean Sophia _was_ right about his emotional capacity- or he had the world's driest delivery. He was beginning to suspect the latter.

"So," Falcon said, seeming unaware of his brother's thoughts. "How did Kira's hearing go? I gather Ensign Badgiruel was prosecution, while you were defense."

Mu waved a hand. "Well, frankly, I don't think Ensign Badgiruel's case held water. The regulation she was citing did not in any way apply to the stunt she pulled with Miss Clyne; in my view, it was just a weak attempt to defend a clear violation of the Ceres Accords. Unfortunately, her actions weren't what we were discussing, except in a peripheral way. Still, it helped that the Pink Princess wasn't actually a POW, which meant she wasn't technically a _prisoner_ at all; so that brought it down to the matter of Kira's unauthorized launch in the Strike. Which," he added gravely, "is a proven fact. So, naturally, we..."

"Let him off with a warning." Falcon nodded. "Naturally."

Mu looked at him sidelong. "How'd you know that?"

The one-eyed pilot leaned back. "You forget, Mu, that I've known Murrue Ramius for a long time; she must have been pleased that Lacus was out of danger." He tilted his head. "By the way, just what did Sophia have to say about the whole thing?"

The Hawk snorted. "She didn't have _anything_ to say about it. Claimed she flunked law classes at the academy, so she didn't have anything to contribute; then she went to the hangar to help Murdoch and his people fix Raptor. Last I heard, she was turning the air blue down there."

Falcon nodded sagely. "That's my sister. Normally, she's as polite and well-mannered as anybody, but when she gets her hands dirty like that, she turns into a prototypical grease monkey and makes you wonder if she's actually female." An almost-smile. "She lied to you, by the way."

Mu raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"I hacked her records the other day," he explained obliquely. "'Flunked', my foot; she sailed through law courses with flying colors and did a tour with Atlantic Federation JAG about five years ago."

The older pilot blinked. "You mean to tell me she's been with the Judge Advocate General, and claimed not to have anything to contribute? Why would she do that?"

"Because," Falcon said dryly, "all reports indicate she hated it with a passion. She likes working with things she can get her hands on, not debates on points of law and regulations. She's an engineer, and doesn't want to be anything else."

"And here I thought you two didn't understand each other."

_"She_ doesn't understand_ me,_ Mu, not the other way around. Just because I don't like her very much right now doesn't mean I don't know how her mind works."

doesn't understand Mu, not the other way around. Just because I don't like her very much right now doesn't mean I don't know how her mind works." 

"Apparently Captain Ramius is the _only _person on the ship who really gets along with her right now." Mu tilted his head. "So, what _are_ you doing here, anyway? Gloating in your victory?"

"The best don't gloat," his brother informed him. "We don't need to. Besides, to gloat would be to admit some complicity in the matter, which, of course, is nonsense."

"Yeah. I'm sure." Mu jerked his head at the hatch. "C'mon, let's get something to eat, brother. I'm guessing you had quite the night, not to mention exchanging blows with Le Creuset; you must be hungry. Or are you going to tell me that the best don't need to eat?"

"I said I was the best, Mu," Falcon replied, standing. "Didn't say I was that arrogant... or stupid."

* * *

_Vesalius,_ Lacus' Quarters

* * *

Just outside the hatch leading to the pop singer's quarters, a large man hesitated, thinking before finally knocking. 

"Yes?" came the voice from within.

"It's me."

Instantly, the hatch opened. "Commander Cooper!" Lacus greeted. "I didn't realize you were onboard."

"I wasn't," Lance "Sparky" Cooper responded. "Not until about five minutes ago." He stepped through the hatch, glancing about as he did so, before his gaze finally settled on his charge. "You're looking none the worse for wear."

"It wasn't that bad," she told him. _"You,_ on the other hand, look like you haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Sparky snorted. "You know what it's like being stuck at the Clyne Residence with your father when you're missing? Scary."

Sparky, at twenty, was three years older than his former commander. He was also far larger, at over 180 centimeters, with wide shoulders and powerful muscles. He, like his mentor, carried a katana through his belt -the mark of a Gray Demon- and bore a few scars from its use.

He also had a pronounced, continuous facial tic, which suggested an incident -or accident- involving large amounts of electricity in his past.

"So," he went on after a moment, "how did they treat you on the legged ship? I heard about the incident with the Eighth Fleet's advance force..."

Lacus smiled. "Oh, don't worry, Commander; it wasn't that bad. That was the only incident that could possibly be considered threatening, and mostly I was treated quite well. Especially by one young man... and Commander DiFalco."

Sparky flinched. He'd heard his former commander was on the _Archangel,_ but he hadn't wanted to believe it. It meant either that Falcon's attempts at remaining out of the war -and thus safe from his past- had failed... or he had gone over to the enemy. _But he wouldn't have,_ he reminded himself. _Not after the Bloody Valentine. Falcon _must_ have his reasons._

Lacus' voice brought him back to the present. "Commander, can I ask you something?"

He looked up. "Hmm?"

She chose her words carefully. "Can Commander DiFalco be trusted?"

"Absolutely," Sparky said firmly. "He left ZAFT for reasons of his own, sound -and vitally important- reasons. I don't know what he's doing with this 'legged ship', but I'm sure he has his reasons. _Everything_ he does is for one goal: the safety and independence of the PLANTs." He tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

Lacus pulled the disc Falcon had given her from a tabletop. "He gave me this," she told her bodyguard. "He said you'd know what to do with it."

"Did he?" Sparky moved to the compartment's computer terminal, then thought better of it, pulled out a pocket computer, and inserted the disc into it (he didn't want whatever data his boss had sent to him in the ship's network; no telling who might gain access to it from there). "I wonder what the boss has up his sleeve _this_ time..."

Lacus left the man to his work, understanding that something important was going on, even if she wasn't sure what. "What is it?"

Sparky frowned, pulling up a file. "I'm not sure... But if it's from Falcon, I'm willing to bet it'll be interesting. Let's just hope we have time to pull it off before the Le Creuset team takes care of the _Archangel._ We might not; I hear that hothead Joule, on the _Gamow,_ is planning some kind of operation..."

* * *

_Gamow, _Bridge

* * *

"So..." Yzak murmured. "It looks like we finally get another shot at the legged ship." 

_Gamow_ had taken_ Vesalius'_ place as the ship chasing the_ Archangel,_ once the_ Nazca _was forced to detour to offload Lacus Clyne. That suited Yzak just fine; he wanted the legged ship, very badly. It -and its pilots- had thwarted him too many times before; now it was time for payback.

had taken ' place as the ship chasing the once the was forced to detour to offload Lacus Clyne. That suited Yzak just fine; he wanted the legged ship, very badly. It -and its pilots- had thwarted him too many times before; now it was time for payback. 

Nicol was far less sanguine. "You do realize," he pointed out, "that by the time we reach them, they'll only be ten minutes from rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet."

Dearka snorted. "That's plenty of time. Oh, we might not be able to take their entire mobile weapon complement in that time, but it should be enough to take out the ship itself. We have three G-weapons to their two, after all, and the mobile armor doesn't even really count on the modern battlefield."

"I suppose..." The green-haired pilot scratched his head. "Are we getting any assistance from the _Nacht Jaeger?"_

Yzak shook his head. "No, they're going all the way back to the PLANTs; Raptor's little assault left them with a single GINN and a badly-damaged CGUE. They'll be out of action for awhile now; just as well. I think Commander Huckebein is getting a little unstable, and we don't need that."

For once, _both_ of his fellow pilots agreed with him. Huckebein was smart, but from what they could tell, his mental stability seemed to be eroding. There was no place for that on the battlefield.

Of course, the mention of Huckebein and Raptor brought something else to the forefront of Dearka's mind, and he winced, thinking of the one pilot he hoped _wouldn't_ be killed in their attack. "You do realize," he said slowly, "that if we make even one mistake, Raptor will destroy us all."

Yzak snorted. "You still haven't convinced me that he's _that_ good, Dearka. There are three of us, and only one of him. Besides, remember the pounding the Huckebein team gave him the other day; I doubt his machine is even combat-ready right now."

"Don't underestimate Falcon," Dearka warned. "He's an engineer himself, you know; by now, he'll know every centimeter of that mobile suit, and exactly how to repair it. He'll be out there... I know it."

"Then it'll be your job to keep him busy," the white-haired pilot told him. "The Grimaldi Falcon will hesitate to fire on you, and even if he doesn't, he'll try for disabling attacks. While he's doing that, I can keep the Strike busy, while Nicol handles the legged ship. We can do this."

_"If_ everything goes according to plan," Nicol said quietly.

"Look," Dearka retorted, "all _I'm_ saying is that if we're not careful, Falcon will shoot us all down. But if we _are_ careful, I think we can do this, and maybe even bring Falcon in in the bargain."

"Too bad we don't have Commander Cooper with us to point out Commander DiFalco's weaknesses," Yzak mused. "That'd be a help."

Dearka glared at him. "One, I don't think ZAFT would order him to do that; conflict of interest, which isn't exactly conducive to proper flying. Two, we don't need him, because _I_ know Falcon's weaknesses. I've known him for ten years, and we went through the academy together, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

Yzak thought about his own encounter with the Grimaldi Falcon, the previous year. It was at the ZAFT Academy, and it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences for him...

_"C'mon, Joule, is that the best you can do?" Falcon's command CGUE hopped sideways, dodging a sword attack from Yzak's GINN._

_Yzak reigned in his temper, reminding himself that irritating an instructor was _not_ a good idea. "I'm just getting warmed up," he said through gritted teeth. "Just wait."_

"Sorry, waiting ain't a good idea on the battlefield." Falcon spun around, dodged past Yzak's GINN, and opened fire.

Another minute of combat, and then Yzak's simulator cockpit went black.

Yzak gritted his teeth, remembering the incident. Not only had he lost, but it was his own temper that had done it. Ever since then, he'd done everything he could to reign in his own anger. He hadn't always succeeded, but his flying skill usually managed to compensate.

Dearka raised an eyebrow. "Hey, Yzak? You still there?"

The Duel's pilot instantly glared at him. "What kind of a question is _that?_ Why don't we just get on with this, huh?"

"Sure, sure. So what's the plan?"

Yzak tapped commands into the display. "Okay, this is what we do. I'll distract -and hopefully destroy- the Strike. Nicol, you take the ship itself; with Mirage Colloid, you shouldn't have any trouble. And Dearka, you keep the Zero and DiFalco busy."

Both eyebrows went up this time. _"Both_ of them? All by myself?" Dearka shook his head. "We _are_ dealing with the Hawk of Endymion here, as well as the Grimaldi Falcon. I agree we should attack, but a _little_ caution might be a good idea."

A sigh. "Listen, Dearka, the Moebius Zero doesn't have any weapons that can hurt you -unless you're stupid enough to sit still long enough for him to run you out of power- and DiFalco won't shoot to kill."

"Don't be so sure," Dearka warned. "I know Falcon better than you. He won't shoot to kill if he can avoid it, but for him, the mission comes before _everything._ If he really believes his actions are defending the PLANTs, he won't hesitate to blow me up if I cause him too much trouble." He sighed. "Still, this _is_ our best option." He looked over at Nicol. "Right?"

Nicol sighed. "I still think this isn't the best idea... but I guess I'm outvoted. Let's go."

It wouldn't be long before Dearka and Falcon would be in direct conflict... again.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Nearly at the rendezvous," Murrue said, sighing in relief. "Soon we'll be in friendly territory again, and we'll be able to relax." 

"Yeah," Sophia agreed. "Maybe then, we'll be able to stop worrying about masked commanders and Falcon's ex-students. Frankly, I'm getting tired of them."

"Yeah."

Natarle didn't share their relief. "Don't slack off!" she snapped at the Bridge crew in general. "We're nearly to the Eighth Fleet, and that makes us more vulnerable than ever; fleets are conspicuous."

Falcon, facing the viewport, rolled his eye. _I suppose you have a point, Ms. Spit and Polish, but if you keep a crew constantly at battle readiness, they'll burn out. It's a fact of life for soldiers._

"You have a point, Ensign," he said aloud, "but it all depends on the human factor, as well as the condition of the enemy's equipment. _Nacht Jaeger_ we can count out for the time being; Mu and I reduced her effective mobile suit complement to a single GINN, and the ship herself probably needs repairs to her engine mountings."

Natarle glanced at him. "And just how would you know _that,_ Commander?"

"I know _Nacht Jaeger,"_ he replied. "The Gray Demons -what was left of them- flew off her at Nova. The point, in this case, is that she has a peculiar harmonic resonance factor where the starboard engine pod joins with the rest of the hull; she's had it since she was built, and nobody's figured out how to fix it yet. So, the vibration from the engines themselves causes additional -and rapid- wear and tear, which means the ship has to return to port more often than her sister ships for maintenance. During combat maneuvers, it tends to be even worse, so..."

Murrue nodded. "Makes sense. Can't say I'm disappointed to hear it; just having a single _Nazca_ and _Laurasia_ after us has given us enough trouble."

"Agreed. Which brings me back to the original point about why we may or may not be attacked: I'm not sure just how badly Rau wants this ship. Under the circumstances, he may be content to let us go; even he would be taking a risk by going after the entire Eighth Fleet. At least, with GINNs or CGUEs." Falcon shrugged. "In any case, with _Nacht Jaeger_ in need of repairs and resupply, and _Vesalius_ ferrying Lacus Clyne to another ship for transport back to the PLANTs, the most we have to worry about is the _Gamow._ Fortunately, _Laurasias_ are rather slower than a _Nazca_ or an _Archangel,_ so even if we are engaged, they'll have no more than ten minutes of combat time before the Fleet forces them to break off."

"Even _they_ wouldn't be crazy enough to try it, in that case," Natarle mused.

The one-eyed pilot shook his head. "I'd tend to agree with you, except I think Yzak Joule may be calling the shots over there right now, and that particular pilot has the twin problems of oversized ego and underdeveloped emotional control. He might be stupid enough to make the attempt."

"Hmm..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria Corridor

* * *

Kira walked toward the _Archangel_'s cafeteria, feelings mixed. He was still under the effects of Flay's accusations, after her father's death, and now he had Athrun's assurance that the next time they met, there would be no mercy... on either side. 

On the other hand, he'd also -with the help of Falcon- successfully returned Lacus Clyne to the hands of those who wouldn't attempt to use her as a hostage, the way Natarle Badgiruel had. That went a long way toward making him feel better, if not quite far enough.

_But I -we- did it,_ he told himself._ We got Lacus to Athrun, and nobody was even hurt._ Though he strongly suspected Falcon would have been very pleased to blow Le Creuset to pieces. _Still, he agreed to break off; and he probably wouldn't have been much happier than me if he had to fire on Athrun. He doesn't like fighting ZAFT any more than I do._

A good deal less, probably; of course, his mentor also had a good deal more on his shoulders, to hear him talk. Kira didn't understand exactly what was going on... but he'd decided it didn't matter. As soon as the reached the Eighth Fleet, he was leaving the _Archangel,_ so Falcon mysterious "mission" would not longer be his problem.

The cafeteria hatch slid aside as he touched the controls, and he stepped in, to find his classmates, with the exception of Falcon, already there; the pilot's absence was, of course, hardly surprising, since his presence at the college had been more a cover than anything else.

What _was_ a surprise was Flay's presence. She looked far calmer than the last time Kira had seen her; and she was in fact walked toward him.

"Kira?" she said tentatively.

"Uh... yeah, Flay?" _Is she gonna...?_

"I'm sorry," Flay said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "I shouldn't have said those things, yesterday. You have enough to worry about, just protecting this ship; I know you did your best to save my father's ship."

Kira nodded, surprised but also relieved. "It's okay, Flay. I know what you must have been going through, after what happened out there..." It was his turn to look away. "I'm just sorry I wasn't faster. I..."

"I just want you to know," she interrupted, "that when you're out there, I'll be behind you all the way. I'll be there for you, Kira." She finally met his eyes, with a strange look Kira didn't notice. "It's just important that we end this war as quickly as possible."

He smiled. "I agree."

Behind Flay, Mir's eyes narrowed. _I notice you didn't say a word about Falcon,_ she thought to herself. _And if anything, you treated _him_ even _worse._ Doesn't _he_ deserve an apology, too?_ She didn't expect Flay to actually apologize to Falcon in person -if anything, the pilot seemed to deliberately avoid her- but even a few words, here and now, would doubtless get back to him. _Maybe I should talk to him myself; something's going on here, and I don't like it. This isn't like Flay at all._

She turned to Tolle. "I'm going to go find Falcon," she said quietly. "Something isn't right here, and I think he should know about it."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later." It didn't occur to him to be jealous at the thought of Mir going to see another guy alone; the notion of Falcon having sufficient warm feelings for that to be an issue was simply so preposterous it never even came to mind.

In a sense, Tolle was right. But more to the point, there was the story behind the photograph kept in Falcon's cockpit...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Room

* * *

As Mir had expected, Falcon was looking out at the stars when she found him, floating a meter above the deck. "Hello, Miriallia," he said without turning. "Something up?" 

"It's Flay," she said bluntly.

He turned his head, fixing his Prussian blue eye on her. "Flay? What's she up to? And do I even want to know? Given what she said last time I was near her..."

"That's just it, Falcon. She turned up in the cafeteria a few minutes ago, and she seemed almost normal. She even spoke to Kira, _apologizing_ to him... and it didn't feel right to me." Mir shook her head. "It didn't feel right at all. She recovered way too fast."

Falcon nodded, rubbing his eyepatch. "I agree. That's not like her at all; and not at all what I'd expect from a person who just lost her only remaining family." He raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you want me to do?"

She blinked. "Well, I... Actually, I just thought you should know what was going on. I don't know that there _is_ anything you can do, at least until we figure out what's going on. I just think... that maybe you ought to keep an eye on the situation."

"Agreed." He turned back to the viewport, deep in thought. "I don't know if you know this -and I don't think he remembered it- but I had occasion to meet George Allster once."

"You did?"

"Yes. It was... last February. The fourth, it would have been, the day before the bombing that led to the war. I was there in Copernicus to help prepare security measures for Chairman Clyne's arrival the next day." He grimaced. "Good thing his shuttle was delayed, or else he'd have been killed, too, and the Alliance might have rolled right over us. Anyway, I met the Vice Minister that day, and I can't say he impressed me particularly. For one thing, he wasn't very fond of Coordinators; it didn't surprise me that his daughter seemed to be cut from the cloth. I'll say this for her, though: unlike her late father, Flay has a certain amount of courage. George Allster, on the other hand, was a man with no military sense who should never been with the advance force in the first place."

Mir tilted her head. "You were at Copernicus the day of the bombing?"

"Yes, I was."

"So..." She hesitated. "You'd have been in a position to know what really happened that day. Did the PLANTs really...?"

"No." Falcon's answer was unequivocal. "We had nothing to do with it; Chairman Clyne's shuttle malfunction truly was a fortunate coincidence, nothing more. If I had to guess, Blue Cosmos was behind it."

"But why kill the entire U.N. leadership...? Oh." Mir grimaced as she answered her own question. "Of course. The United Nations was looking for a peaceful resolution to the disagreement, which Blue Cosmos wouldn't have wanted... and killing them cleared the way for the group to exert greater influence on the sponsor nations."

He nodded. "Exactly. The classified reports I saw later in the year give me reason to believe Blue Cosmos also orchestrated the creation of the Earth Alliance; and that they exert a _lot_ of influence on Alliance policy. And there's certainly no doubt that they were behind the use of nuclear weapons in the Bloody Valentine." Falcon closed his eye. "You know, it was the Bloody Valentine that drove Patrick to this madness. His wife-"

Before he could finish the sentence, alarms blared. _"All hands to Level One Battlestations! Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations! Commander DiFalco to the hangar!"_

Before the echoes died, Mir found herself alone with a drifting trench coat; Falcon himself was already gone.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"What's going on?" Murrue demanded. 

"It's a _Laurasia_-class, Ma'am," Pal responded. "Looks to be the one that was chasing us before; which means it'll have G-weapons."

"The _Gamow,"_ Natarle murmured, remembering Falcon's identification of the ship. "I guess Commander DiFalco was right; the guy in charge over there _is_ crazy."

"Not crazy," Murrue mused, "just hot-tempered. Mr. Tonomura, how long till rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet?"

"A little over ten minutes, Captain," Tonomura replied, consulting his displays.

"All right. Tell Lieutenant La Flaga, Kira, and Falcon to launch as soon as possible," she ordered. "We only need to hold them off for ten minutes; we can do it." _We've come this far, they won't fail now..._

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Falcon, having changed into his flightsuit in record time, nodded to Mu as he swiftly entered his newly-repaired mobile suit. _Here we go,_ he thought, attaching the power cable from his suit, adjusting the picture on his instrument panel, and closing his hatch. _This should be the last battle with Dearka, at least; the Le Creuset team won't be following us to Earth... I think._

Guiding Raptor to the catapult, he noted Kira had finally reached the Strike. "There you are," he said, keying his radio. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it."

"Sorry," Kira responded. "I, uh... I was delayed."

"Huh. Well, no harm done. They haven't reached us yet." Falcon looked over at the Zero, being brought to the port catapult ahead of him. "Mu? You ready?"

"Yeah, Falcon," his brother replied. "Let's get 'em."

The Strike went first, into the starboard catapult. _"Connected to catapult,"_ Kira heard from the Bridge. _"Aile Striker, stand by,"_ Mir continued. _"Good luck, Kira."_

"I'll be fine," he said, surprised to realize he actually meant it. _Of course,_ he thought, _this time I won't be fighting Athrun..._ It would be only his second battle in the Strike since Heliopolis where the Aegis would not be involved.

"You're cleared for launch. Ready when you are, Strike."

His fingers tightened on the controls. "Kira here. Strike Gundam, launching!"

Mu was next, launching from the port catapult without nearly as much fuss. His place was quickly taken by the Raptor. _"Raptor, connected to catapult,"_ Mir called. _"Stand by."_

_"Hey, Commander,"_ Murdoch called._ "You want anything extra this time?"_

"Just give me a Midas Messer unit," Falcon replied. "Under the circumstances, a beam boomerang should be enough extra firepower."

"Roger that."

The Sword Striker's beam boomerang unit was lowered onto the Raptor's left shoulder, and Mir's voice came back on. _"You're go for launch, Raptor. Be careful."_

"Understood." Falcon paused, then smiled to himself, remembering Kira's name for the new machines. "This is the Grimaldi Falcon. Raptor Gundam, engaging."

The last transmission from the Bridge was something he suspected he wasn't supposed to overhear... which, knowing Mir, was probably the very reason she'd piped it down to him. _"You'd better not scratch the paint again, Falcon,"_ Sophia muttered, oblivious to the nearby microphone.

Falcon shook his head, and concentrated on his flying as he shot out of the catapult.

* * *

Earth Orbit, Near Eighth Fleet Rendezvous

* * *

Two trios of mobile weapons shot across space toward one another, each expecting this to be their final battle. One, led by Yzak Joule, was confident they could end it with the destruction of the _Archangel._ The other, with no clear leader -though Falcon, perhaps, came close, with the most battle experience- knew they merely had to hold off the aggressors long enough for the Eighth Fleet to arrive and put a stop to things. 

"Hey, Falcon," Mu called. "How about we keep the Buster busy, eh?"

"Roger that." They didn't have to discuss the fact that Falcon didn't want to see Dearka dead; Mu's Zero wasn't capable of inflicting much damage on the Buster anyway, and Falcon's Raptor was optimized for pinpoint targeting. "Kira," the pilot called, "you keep the Duel busy. I know it may be a lot to ask, but Joule seems to have taken a disliking to you anyway. Can you do it?"

"Sure," Kira answered, sounding more confident than he felt. "But what about the Blitz?"

"I know the pilot," Falcon replied. "Nicol Amalfi isn't bad, but he's also got less experience than his fellows, as well as being more cautious; I think the _Archangel_ can keep him busy."

"Roger that." Strike peeled off, heading for the Duel; which had already vectored toward _him._

A moment later, Falcon's eye narrowed. "Tallyho," he called, using the age-old pilot's report. "Buster, Blitz, and Duel; let's go, Mu. Cover my six."

"I'm your wing," Mu acknowledged. "We got ten minutes to kill, Falcon; let's do this right."

"Agreed, amigo. Time to play decoy." Falcon switched frequencies, and opened his mouth.

Dearka winced, hearing that distinctive cry. So much for his faint hope that someone else might be piloting that machine this time. "Hello, Falcon," he called. "I guess there's no other way, huh?"

"No, amigo, there isn't." The single eye narrowed. "Give it your best, Dearka. I'd be disappointed if you took it easy on me."

_No, actually, I think you'd be disappointed because I wasn't doing my duty,_ the Buster's pilot thought._ There are some things about you that I will never understand; but I do understand my mission._ His targeting scanner deployed, bringing the screen right in front of his eyes. "Forgive me," he whispered.

This time, the Death Blossoms remained dormant. Against a single opponent, whom Falcon did not want to kill, they would be unnecessary. Instead, he drew a single beam saber, while Mu deployed his wired gunbarrels.

Dearka began the overture, a twin barrage from his rifles. The gun launcher shot was taken by Raptor's shield, but the arcing green bolt was batted back at the Buster by the energy blade, forcing him to dodge.

The symphony of combat had begun anew.

* * *

Meanwhile, Strike and Duel closed rapidly. "I've got you this time, Strike," Yzak whispered, a cold smile on his face. "You're not getting away today." 

Watching him, beam rifle out and ready, Kira's eyes narrowed. "The Duel..." _Why is it always him?_ he wondered. _Well, this is the last time..._

The two machines engaged each other simultaneously, a competitive duet of brilliant green fire, shattering into sparkles upon each other's shields.

_Urgh!_ Yzak cursed to himself._ He's gotten better since last time! Well, it won't be enough..._ He circled the Strike, arming his rifle-mounted grenade launcher. "Gotcha now!" He fired, sending the explosive sailing across the abyss toward its destiny.

Yzak cursed to himself. He circled the Strike, arming his rifle-mounted grenade launcher. "Gotcha now!" He fired, sending the explosive sailing across the abyss toward its destiny. 

Kira saw it, and did two things at once. His Igelstellungs erupted, providing a harmless but distracting nuisance to keep his enemy busy, and sent a jade stiletto of energy into the grenade, detonating it prematurely. _You won't get me that easy, Duel. Not today. I've got too much to protect._

Strike returned fire, bolts forcing Duel to dance around; Yzak suddenly felt a burning envy of the Raptor's pilot, who was swatting aside beams with seeming effortlessness. He wasn't good enough to try that himself, much to his fury.

He could, however, force the Strike pilot to fight on _his_ terms...

Duel swept out a beam saber of his own, igniting a blade of frozen fire. "Come and get it, Strike!"

Kira hissed, and drew his own weapon. "I won't be defeated here!" Fire met fire, locking the two warriors in a battle of wills, each unwilling to retreat from the clash.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

The _Archangel_ shuddered as a blast from the _Gamow_'s main guns hit them, and Sophia cursed. "Those ZAFT weapons are better than I thought," she hissed. "If we didn't have laminated armor, we'd already be dead." 

"It's worse," Natarle informed her. "We're reading the Blitz approaching, and -Wait a second." She looked over Tonomura's shoulder just in time to see the Blitz vanish from their screens. "We've lost the Blitz, Captain!"

"Mirage Colloid," Murrue said grimly. "Just like at Artemis. It has its weaknesses, though."

Sophia straightened. "Of course! CIC, switch over to anti-air shrapnel warheads, and disengage Igelstellung auto-tracking. Barrage fire will keep him busy."

"Roger." Natarle repeated the commands, and nodded to herself. Mirage Colloid's weakness was power: it used so much that while it was in use, Phase-shift had to be deactivated. With Phase-shift down, even a G-weapon became vulnerable to kinetic weapons.

While CIC was busy doing that, Murrue was barking out other orders. "Starboard forty degrees, right roll twenty degrees," she snapped. "We have to lose them."

As Neumann complied, bringing the powerful ship around, Sophia looked out over the battle between mobile weapons. "They seem to be holding their own out there," she observed. "Duel and Strike seem to be in something of a stalemate, but I think Falcon and the Lieutenant have the Buster under control."

She winced, seeing the silent cacophony of multiple explosions, before realizing Raptor had just used its Igelstellungs to detonate the warheads prematurely.

* * *

Earth Orbit, Near Eighth Fleet Rendezvous

* * *

Mu shook his head, watching the missiles explode harmlessly. "Look, Falcon," he called, spitting fast-moving projectiles from his gunbarrels, "you can't keep this up. He's the enemy , so shoot him!" 

"Think I haven't been trying?" Falcon grunted, pirouetting around to Buster's rear. "Trouble is, Dearka knows how I fight. That makes things just a little difficult, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, watch out!"

Dearka had gotten his machine reoriented faster than Falcon had expected was possible, and swung his weapons together, forming the hyper-impulse rifle. _Try this, "amigo"._

Falcon saw it, and tried to do several things at once. His Igelstellungs fired distracting bursts, his Death Blossoms spiraled out to spit beams of green death at Buster's limbs, his cannons fired larger rods of energy at Buster's head, and his beam saber lashed out... all while he attempted evasive maneuvers.

The counterattack was partially successful. Dearka was doing some maneuvering of his own, so the cannons missed his head, instead slagging one of his missile pods; the Death Blossoms missed completely, their fire converging on a patch of empty space. It was, ironically, the CIWS fire that saved Falcon's Gundam; a burst struck a glancing blow to the Buster's weapon, knocking it just barely out of alignment.

It was not quite enough to fully spare Raptor from the fury of the enormous energy discharge.

Half of the machine's head was blown away, while the rest of the beam was intercepted by the saber. The scarlet fire stopped the blast... but in the process, the saber's emitter burned out, rendering the weapon useless.

Falcon cursed quietly at the damage, then louder as one of his displays exploded in his face. He ducked in time to save his faceplate, but a burning fragment hit his shoulder, searing through the flightsuit and into his flesh. "Son-of-a-!"

Mu instantly opened fire, hitting the rear half of Dearka's combined weapon and knocking the gun launcher out of commission entirely. "Falcon!" he shouted, putting out a steady barrage. "Are you alright?"

Falcon coughed, batting smoke out of his field of view. "Singed, but otherwise okay," he replied, surveying the damage. "Raptor's not so lucky; half my forward camera coverage is gone, along with half my targeting, and one beam saber. But I'm still functional."

The Hawk sighed, relieved. "Good. Can you still _fight?"_

"Yeah." Raptor discarded the burned-out melee weapon -_Archangel_ had plenty of spares- and reached over its left shoulder for the remaining weapon. "Death Blossoms are out of the question -because of targeting problems and because I'm running a little low on power- and I wouldn't want to try the cannons... but I don't need them, anyway." Scarlet flame sprouted from his hand once more, and Falcon's eye narrowed. "I'm still in the game."

In Buster's cockpit, Dearka swallowed. "Oops." He'd forgotten Falcon was so good.

He'd forgotten the lesson of Jachin, Endymion, and Nova. The lesson of Artemis. The lesson that the Falcon of Grimaldi... was not so easily dealt with.

* * *

Kira and Yzak were still dueling, blades clashing again and again in a furious stalemate. Neither of them could get the upper hand... but they were both accomplishing their objective: keep each other busy. 

Yzak twirled his blade, brought it around, and sliced upward in a diagonal cut, trying to open the Strike from left hip to right shoulder; just incidentally, the blow would have bisected the cockpit, in the process.

Kira wasn't about to allow that. His own saber came up and slid along the Duel's blade, forcing it aside, while Strike's left hand reached back and drew its second blade. With it in hand, he trapped Duel's weapon, forcing it even further away.

Yzak cursed. _This won't do me any good like this!_ He released his grip on the weapon, allowing it to drift away into space, and made use of the instant in which Strike's weapons were still occupied. "Take this!"

Duel's shield came up, catching Strike in the chin and forcing it back. That gave the ZAFT pilot time to reach for his other beam saber, and frozen fire ignited in his hand again.

_This isn't good,_ Kira thought, bringing both of his weapons up to a guard position._ We can't keep this up forever..._ He glanced at the timer on his display._ Just three more minutes,_ he read, and relaxed slightly._ We can do it that long..._

Kira thought, bringing both of his weapons up to a guard position. He glanced at the timer on his display. he read, and relaxed slightly. 

The two machines came together again, Strike having the advantage in offense, Duel's shield providing extra defense. Sabers clashed as they whirled around each other, pounding away, heedless of gradually-decreasing power levels.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"This is crazy," Sophia whispered. "This is absolutely insane." 

Watching the battles taking place between the mobile weapons, she began to truly appreciate for the first time the skill required to pilot even a mobile armor, let alone a mobile _suit._ She knew she couldn't hope to keep up with the maneuvers the intact machines were pulling, let alone Falcon's continued assaults in the face of what others would consider crippling blows to his machine.

_Archangel_ was patched into Falcon's communications, and they all heard the next exchange between Raptor and Buster._ "Come on, Falcon!"_ Dearka called, firing a salvo from his remaining missile pod._ "You can still come back to ZAFT, if you'll just stop this!"_

_"No!"_ Falcon responded, lunging forward._ "Not with GENESIS on the horizon!"_

Sophia frowned. _What the devil is 'Genesis'?_

_"I still don't know what you're talking about,"_ Dearka grunted, raising Buster's gun launcher to protect its head. The tactic worked, though it cost him the gun._ "What's GENESIS?"_

"You don't wanna know, amigo."

The black-haired lieutenant's attention was torn from the mini-battle by another shudder, coursing through the ship. This one was different, though. It felt closer... like at the base of the ship's superstructure. "What was that?" she demanded.

Natarle cursed. "It's the Blitz! It got past our defenses; now he's standing _on_ the ship!"

Murrue clung grimly to her command chair. "Another few hits from that position, and we're done for." _It can't end this way. Not after coming so far..._

Mir punched buttons on her console, signaling the Strike. "Kira, get over here! The Blitz is shooting the Bridge; another couple of hits-!"

She wasn't even sure if Kira heard it... but he did.

* * *

Earth Orbit, Near Eighth Fleet Rendezvous

* * *

Kira did indeed hear the call, just as Falcon finished disarming the Buster with a thrown beam boomerang to the beam rifle and an adroit thrust to the missile pod. "The _Archangel!"_

The Duel was coming at him again, but time seemed to freeze for an instant. Kira remembered a little girl, just before the battle; a screaming Flay, watching her father die... and the same Flay, telling that little girl that everything would be okay, because _Kira_ was out there protecting them.

In his mind, an amethyst seed slowly fell, and burst.

Amethyst eyes opened, wide and clear, and Strike boosted to one side, slipping around and behind Duel's attack. _"What?"_ Yzak exclaimed, unable to believe his quarry had dodged the attack. _That... that can't be..._

Kira wasn't done yet. His beam sabers flashed out, one getting in behind the shield and destroying its handle -along with part of the hand holding it- while the other cut a deep gash into Duel's torso. _Not today,_ he thought with calm clarity. _You won't destroy the _Archangel_ as long as _I'm _here!_

Falcon, Mu, and Dearka all stopped what they were doing to watch as the Strike sliced across space toward the _Archangel,_ looking almost like an avenging -or defending- angel, with swords of fire in either hand, and an absolute purity of purpose.

Falcon shook himself. _Stop the poetic nonsense,_ he griped at himself. _You know what's really going here._ In fact, unlike anyone else on this battlefield, he knew _exactly_ what was happening... and knew that Nicol Amalfi was about to get hurt. _So Kira is a bearer of the SEED... Incredible..._

Nicol saw the Strike coming, and just had time to boost backwards, away from the _Archangel_'s hull, before Kira slammed a knee into the Blitz. One of his sabers went spiraling off into space, but the other swept around in a flaming arc and cut the Trikeros in half. _"Go away!"_

Crying out in surprise and sudden fear, Nicol fell away, out of the fight... while Yzak came back for one more try. "Now I've got you!" His beam saber flashed down.

Kira's head whipped around, spotting the attack in plenty of time. _I don't think so..._ His remaining, left-hand saber knocked Yzak's aside, and Strike's right hand darted to its hip armor. Out came the Armor Schneider, a weapon which was useless against Phase-shift.

But Duel already had a weak spot, gouged by Kira's fiery weapon.

Yzak's displays exploded into a shower of fragments as the enormous switchblade drove into Duel's torso; one chunk slammed into his faceplate, shattering it. He shrieked as one sharp piece cut into his face. _"Aaahhh!"_

Duel fell away from its intended victor, hunter turned shockingly into hunted, and was caught by the Buster and Blitz. "We have to get out of here," Dearka said, breath coming in harsh gasps. "The enemy fleet's coming."

"Yeah," Nicol agreed, and turned his attention back to the Duel. "Yzak? Yzak, can you hear me?"

The only response at first was an anguished sound; then, "It burns, it burns, _it burns!"_

Falcon closed down his beam saber. "I think we won this round, Mu."

The Zero's gunbarrels locked back into place. "Yeah. Looks that way." Mu looked over at the Strike. "Hey, kid. You were terrific."

Kira shook his head, trying to clear; he had no idea what had just happened to him. "Lieutenant...?"

"No..." the Hawk corrected himself. "No, you're more than that. That was... _unbelievable."_

The younger pilot closed his eyes, weary beyond words. "Not really."

_Oh, yes it was,_ Falcon thought._ And one day, you may even understand just how rare your gift is..._

Falcon thought. 

His radio made a popping noise as _Archangel_ established contact. _"Well done, you three,"_ Murrue said gratefully. _"The Eighth Fleet is here; come back, and get some rest. It's over."_

"Roger that," the one-eyed pilot answered; but inwardly, his thoughts were far different. _No, Murrue, it's _not_ over. No... this is only the beginning..._

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has broken through to the Eighth Fleet, and Kira's Berserker abilities have surfaced… and Falcon seems to know something about it. Why? 

Soon, Falcon's connection with Admiral Halberton will be explained, and his status among the crew will become official…

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I certainly do intend to go through the entire timeline; I wouldn't know where to stop otherwise, for one thing. And yes, it's taken a lot of time and planning; and time _to_ plan. I had this underway long before I finished posting Brothers in Arms, so I've got the major twists all figured out. As you've seen from this chapter, it won't be going entirely according to canon; and soon, it'll start diverging even more, though I'll continue to follow the basic events.

NukeDawg, it's more a matter of how Falcon will interfere with _Flay's_ plans, not the other way around. You'll see what I mean soon enough.

Ominae, _Natarle_ might want to court martial Falcon, but as is pointed out in this chapter, they can't exactly pin anything on him. He only launched in _pursuit_ of the Strike, whatever his actual reasons may have been. Now, the Board of Inquiry sequence from Phase 33... _that_ could be… interesting, assuming I can manage to get there before I have to start A Call to Arms.

Infinite Freedom, the CGUE won't play much of a role for the time being; for one thing, there's nobody else on the _Archangel_ who can even fly the thing. Rest assured, though, that it will have its moment of glory, much later…

As to your other question, no, that's not necessary.

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, as is noted above, it's not Flay that'll be interfering with Falcon, but rather Falcon intervening -carefully- in certain scenes that irritated me in the anime. I still don't have quite all the details worked out, but suffice to say events will go slightly different this time around.

Deathzealot, I'm assuming you tried to include a web address in your review; however, as I've noted at least three times before, those don't seem to show up. No matter, though, a couple of other people provided the information. Thanks anyway.

Ninofchaos, thanks; combined with information from another source, I've now tracked down the song in question (I think). Hope you liked the chapter.

Centurious, good to hear. I'll be watching for it; in the meantime, I trust this chapter did not disappoint.

Warp Ligia Obscura, in my experience the best way to make an original character fit in is to give him/her a detailed back story, preferably involving some of the canon characters. Kevin Walker, for example, had prior connections to quite a few of the civilians and ZAFT soldiers, while Falcon knows most of the featured ZAFT personnel and a couple of individuals within the Earth Forces. So yeah, I try to insert my characters as smoothly as possible.

As to controllers… Hm. I suppose you must be referring to the newer, smaller X Box controllers, because I have, at various times, handled all three major console controllers, and found the Dual Shock and its successor to be the most comfortable. Of course, I'm sure it's also largely a matter of opinion; it may just be that, after eight years, I'm used to Playstation peripherals.

I seem to have covered everything. Now to go see if the Internet will cooperate long enough for me to post this; been giving me fits the last couple days. -Solid Shark


	10. Chapter 10: Hard Choices

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

At long last, after over two weeks on the run from shattered Heliopolis, the Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel_ made rendezvous with a friendly fleet, cruising sedately amidst the Eighth Fleet's ships. 

"Bring us around," Murrue ordered, "and match velocity with the flagship."

"Yes, Ma'am," Neumann acknowledged. As he carried out the orders, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Are you sure we should be flying alongside the _Menelaos?"_

She smiled. "Admiral Halberton's orders, Chief. He probably wants a closer look at the ship... if only to reassure himself that we really did make it here!"

"That sounds like Lewis Halberton, all right," Falcon murmured. He was in his usual spot, drifting near the starboard side of the Bridge's forward viewport. "Probably wants to make sure he doesn't lose another bet."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "So you _do_ know the Admiral. It sounded like it, when you spoke to Captain Koopman, but I wasn't sure."

The pilot nodded. "Yeah, I know him. We-"

"Signal from _Menelaos,_ Ma'am," Pal interrupted; with Kuzzey off-duty, he was filling in at Communications. "A message directly from Admiral Halberton."

She turned. "What is it? More instructions?"

He hesitated. "Something like that, Ma'am. His exact words are, 'Tell that braggart to make sure he's in the hangar when I arrive; I want to have a little chat with him over a small wager'." Pal scratched his head. "Does that mean anything to you, Ma'am?"

"No... but I suspect it means something to someone else here." Murrue turned to Falcon. "That message was meant for you, wasn't it?"

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. "I imagine he _does_ want a word with me, and I'll be pleased to oblige. I just hope he has his pocketbook handy."

Natarle shook her head. "Just when I think I've got you figured out, Commander, it turns out you're acquainted with one of _our_ flag officers. Are you _sure_ you were with ZAFT?"

"That was peacetime, Ensign," Falcon replied. "Even the blockade wasn't truly a wartime situation; and it so happens the good Admiral isn't one of those who believes Coordinators to be inherently evil."

"That's true," Murrue agreed. She smiled at the ace. "Now, 'braggart', I suppose you should probably get ready for the Admiral's arrival, hm?"

He waved a hand. "I'll be along. Besides, the man would be astonished if I turned up without a trench coat over my uniform; it would violate all tradition."

At the rear of the Bridge, Sophia put a hand over her eyes. _I don't believe this. My brother, who used to be a _ZAFT_ pilot, knows a high-ranking Earth Forces officer _I_ know only by reputation. And, to top it all off, he cracks a joke... and still maintains that irritating mask-look, which means I'm not even sure if it was a joke in the first place!_

Needless to say, the perpetual poker face was beginning to grate on her nerves. Extremely.

Murrue chuckled to herself at the silent, invisible byplay (she knew both DiFalcos well enough to sense what was going on), and pushed away from her chair. "Well, _I _at least had better get going; I have something to take care of before the Admiral arrives. Please hold the fort while I'm gone," she added to the Bridge at large.

Natarle followed her into the elevator. "Captain?"

"Yes, Natarle?" _What does she want now?_

"It's about the Strike, Captain," the ensign said, confirming her Captain's suspicions. "Do you have any plans for it?"

Murrue blinked. "Plans? What do you mean?"

"Well, Captain, the entire ship knows it by now: it was only because of that mobile suit's incredible capabilities that we made it this far, and those capabilities were used to their fullest only by _him."_ By her tone, it was obvious who "he" was. "Are you letting _him_ go, too?"

The Captain sighed; she'd had a feeling her XO was leading up to that. "Look, Natarle," she began, "it wasn't only the Strike that protected us out there. Kira did a wonderful job, probably more than Falcon did, even, but we are hardly helpless without him. The Raptor-"

"The Raptor, in four engagements, has suffered heavy damage in two," Natarle pointed out. "Hardly an inspiring record."

"Six engagements," Murrue corrected. "He was also involved in Lieutenant La Flaga's battle with Le Creuset's CGUE in Heliopolis; although, since his primary contribution there was to help knock the Zero out of the fight, I'll concede that point. And, of course, the Artemis escape was a very brief encounter. However, in the first instance, Falcon was faced with overwhelming odds, as well as the sudden shock -and fury- at facing a former student of his, whom he'd 'killed' when the student in question tried to kill _him._ The second time, he was facing the Buster, which, as you'll recall, is piloted by Falcon's best friend, who would naturally know how Falcon flies, thus giving him an advantage other pilots would not have."

The elevator cam to a stop, and the hatch slid open. "Still, Captain," Natarle persisted as they exited, "that last engagement shows just how good a pilot Kira Yamato is; even Commander DiFalco admits that was beyond his own capabilities." Actually, Murrue recalled, Falcon had made a cryptic comment about it being beyond his _normal_ capabilities, but she let it pass. "His skills are invaluable to us!"

The Captain sighed. "I understand what you're to say Natarle, believe me. But the fact remains that Kira Yamato is _not_ an Earth Forces soldier. He's a civilian, and the moment he leaves this ship, we will no longer have any authority over his whatsoever." She pushed off the bulkhead, heading down another corridor.

"But-" Natarle was left standing there alone, once again in fundamental disagreement with her superior.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

The mechanics were clustered around the Moebius Zero, which had taken a stray hit during Falcon's battle with the Buster; they wanted the job finished quickly, given the workload they had waiting for them in another part of the hangar. 

Mu was dozing above his mobile armor, still a little tired from the preceding battle, when Kira popped out of the hatch (he'd been doing work in the cockpit, mostly calibrations on the software to match the hardware repairs). "We've already made it to the rendezvous," he said plaintively, "so would somebody tell me what the hurry is?"

The Hawk jerked awake. "I just don't like it when it's damaged," he explained, once he'd recovered his wits. "Besides, the sooner we take care of this, the sooner Murdoch and his people can get to fixing the Raptor." He nodded at the Strike's near-duplicate, which had taken heavy damage to its cameras and fire control, when a hit blew away half its head and burned out a beam saber.

"Yeah," Murdoch agreed, drifting toward them. "That'll take us awhile to fix; and besides, until then our only mobile defenses will be the Eighth Fleet's rookies and the Lieutenant here."

"I guess..." Kira said dubiously. "But what about the Strike? Should we really be leaving it as is?"

Mu shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it, really; good point, though. On the other hand, I'm not so sure we should make any changes to it, since that would reduce its performance."

"Well, then," a new voice cut in, "we'll just have to hope we find someone capable of piloting it in its current condition. Someone else, I should say, since Falcon is more or less permanently assigned to the Raptor."

Kira looked up to see Murrue approaching. "Uh, Captain?" _What's she doing here?_

"Well, this is a surprise," Mu commented. "To what do we owe the honor, Ma'am? I'm sure you have a million other things you should be taking care of that are more important than us flyboys."

She smiled. "Not really; until the Admiral arrives, there really _isn't_ much for me to do. Besides, I think it _is_ important for me to have a talk with Kira, here."

Kira looked at her, eyes narrow. "Huh?"

The smile widened. "Oh, don't look so suspicious, Kira; though I can't really say that I blame you." _Not after Heliopolis, and Artemis, and everything else that's happened..._

* * *

Soon, they stood on the catwalk in front of the dormant Strike. "It's been so hectic since Heliopolis that I haven't had much time away from command," Murrue began, "so I could never really find the time to have a proper talk with you. Since you're going to be leaving soon, I decided to _make_ time." 

"It _has_ been busy," Kira agreed. "But I've been okay."

"No, you haven't," she contradicted. "I put a lot on your shoulders, more than I should have; yet you gave it your all, and for that, I can't thank you enough."

He felt uncomfortable, never having been in such a position before. "It was nothing, really," he insisted. "Besides, Falcon did more than me."

Murrue shook her head with a slight smile. "Falcon would be the first to admit that his main contribution to our journey was to keep Buster busy and make sure the mechanics had plenty of work," she said dryly. "And he says that he'd never seen anything like what you did in that last engagement."

"It just... well... happened, Captain," Kira said, looking up at the Strike's face. "I did what I had to do, that's all."

"Yet you could have refused to fly at all, Kira," she pointed out. "You fought to protect your friends, yes; but you didn't _have_ to, which makes it all the more impressive. You fought against your own people..."

"No," he corrected. "I fought _for_ my people; my genes don't dictate who my people are, Captain. Falcon told me that, and he's right."

"But it still couldn't have been easy," she persisted.

"No..." he admitted, thinking of Athrun. "It wasn't."

"But you did it anyway; and for that, I'm truly grateful. We all are, even if the others wouldn't say it to your face." Murrue actually bowed.

Feeling even more uncomfortable, Kira stammered, "Uh, it's okay, Captain, really."

She straightened. "Under the circumstances, I imagine things will be just as hectic down on Earth," she said, "but I wish you the best of luck. We will forever be in your debt, Kira."

Murrue extended a hand, and, after a moment's hesitation, Kira took it. "I hope we meet again someday," he said quietly.

"So do I, Kira. And if we both survive, I'm sure we will."

* * *

Two hours later, the launch ferrying Rear Admiral Lewis C. Halberton from the _Agamemnon_-class _Menelaos_ slid easily through the port flight deck's hatch, coming to a rest in the hangar, before the assembled crew of the _Archangel._

It had barely stopped when the hatch opened, permitting the exit of the Admiral himself, followed by his flag captain from _Menelaos,_ Eric Hoffman. He was met by salutes from the _Archangel_'s officers, which he returned. "It's good to see you all alive," he said with feeling. "When we heard about Heliopolis, we thought it was all over."

Murrue smiled. "It'll take more than that to sink the _Archangel,_ Admiral."

"So it would seem." Halberton's gaze wandered over the crew. "So. Who all do we have here?"

Natarle was the first to step forward. "I'm Ensign Natarle Badgiruel, Sir, CIC and _Archangel_'s acting executive officer."

Mu brought up his hand next. "Lieutenant Mu La Flaga, of the Seventh Orbital Fleet, Admiral; I came aboard after the ship I was assigned to was shot down, at Heliopolis."

Halberton shook his head. "Yes, I heard about that. A pity, but I think we were all fortunate you ended up on the _Archangel."_

"Yes, we were," Murrue agreed.

Sophia rounded out the group, greeting the admiral with a salute. "Lieutenant Sophia DiFalco, Sir. I was involved in the G-weapon project; specifically, design of the X107 Raptor, one of the two units we retained possession of."

Halberton nodded. "Yes, I remember." He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid, though, that I have some bad news for you, Lieutenant. Your parents... never made it to the shelters. At least, they were not aboard any of the lifeboats that made it to Earth."

She swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I... guess I... already knew."

The admiral put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he said sincerely. "They should never have been caught up in this conflict; and that's why we're trying to end it as quickly as we can. I know it's not much consolation, but your work is playing a not inconsiderable part in bringing that about."

"Thank you, sir."

Now Halberton looked at the one person who was not among the officers, volunteers, or enlisted personnel, and he smiled broadly. "Well, well, well... Kenneth DiFalco, in the flesh. Captain Koopman's final message caught me by surprise, I'll admit; and you probably intended it to. But it's good to see you Falcon, very good. It's been far too long."

Falcon nodded. "Sure has, Admiral. Not since the war started."

"Come now, no need to be so formal; we first met when I was only a commander, like yourself."

Murrue started. "You've known Falcon that long, Admiral? I thought-"

"That we'd met during the blockade?" Halberton smiled. "No, Lieutenant, we actually met a year before that, when Falcon was on one of his -rare- visits to Earth. Still hate planets, Falcon?"

The one-eyed pilot nodded. "I was born and bred in space, Lewis. Planets are just not my preference."

Sophia, in the midst of her grief -which was not as bad as it might have been, since she'd been expecting it for weeks- managed to feel another twinge of annoyance. _Is he on a first-name basis with _everybody?

"We have much to discuss, Lewis," Falcon was saying, "as you might imagine."

Halberton nodded. "I'm sure we do, old friend. The fact that you come here in a uniform other than that which you wore last time I saw you tells me things have changed... and that you're probably looking for a job. We'll talk about it later." His eyes came to rest on the small group in blue to the rear of the hangar. "So, who do we have over here?"

Murrue turned to follow his gaze. "These are the students from Heliopolis that I mentioned in my report to Captain Koopman, sir. A few hours after Heliopolis' collapse, they volunteered to assist with the operation of the ship, and their aid has been invaluable. Without them, we wouldn't have made it this far, Admiral."

"I see." The Admiral moved to stand in front of them, and he sized them up. "Well, it's good to see youth still believes itself to be invincible. Without such courage, we'd have no one to fight the war; I thank you all for helping to get the _Archangel_ this far. The Earth Forces owe you all a debt of gratitude. Oh yes," he added, remembering what he'd said earlier to Sophia, "we've checked with Orb regarding the survivors of Heliopolis, and confirmed that your families are all safe and sound."

There was general cheer among the students; but before Halberton could say more, Hoffman leaned forward to whisper something. "Uh, sir, we don't have much time..."

"Right," the Admiral answered. "Well, duty calls; but later, I'd like to have a talk with you all. Until then..." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Lieutenant Ramius, if you, your officers, and Commander DiFalco will come with me, I believe we have a number of important matters to discuss."

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

Having finally returned to their primary mission -hunting down the so-called "legged-ship"- Ades and Le Creuset stared down at the Bridge's tactical display, attempting to divine the enemy's intentions... and ways to counter them. 

"I'd have expected them to head to their lunar headquarters," Rau mused, "but on further reflection it appears they'll be going straight to Earth itself. Hm; interesting change of plans."

"From their trajectory, I'd say they intend to head for Alaska," Ades agreed. "Earth Alliance Headquarters; they must be desperate to get their hands on that ship and its mobile suit."

"More importantly, perhaps, its battle data; with that, they can proceed to mass-production." Le Creuset stroked his chin. "You know, I think I'd rather take them out while they're still in our own background. What say you?"

His flag captain nodded slowly. "Well, the _Ziegler_ has six GINNs; we have five machines, including the Aegis. And the _Gamow_ can send out the Buster, Blitz... and Commander Huckebein." Ades didn't bother to conceal the disgust he felt at _that_ addition.

Rau nodded sympathetically. "I know, Ades. Ironically, while the one thing Falcon and Huckebein agree on is their mutual distaste for me, one of the few things Falcon and _I_ agree on is that Victor Tempest is less than completely sane. If I had my way, he'd be nowhere near this operation; failing that, I'd rather he was flying off _Nacht Jaeger,_ instead of hitching a ride on one of _my_ ships. Unfortunately, his ship is still getting the starboard engine pod repaired, and Captain Kreitzman has to break in an almost completely new batch of pilots and mobile suits. Even the pilots that survived Falcon's attack needed their machines replaced; cheaper than repairing them." He grimaced. "So, regrettably, we're stuck with him. The only silver lining I see is that Falcon may actually succeed in killing him this time."

"Unless we capture him first."

The masked commander looked at him almost pityingly. "Ades, you've met the man. Do you actually believe we'll succeed in taking him out of the fight? I don't."

"No, sir," Ades said reluctantly. "Neither do I."

"Cheer up, Ades. At least we'll be able to pound the Eighth Fleet into scrap."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Captain's Office

* * *

For the duration of his visit aboard _Archangel,_ Halberton had appropriated Murrue's office, and he now sat behind the desk as they hashed out the details of the ship's operations for the near future. 

"First," the Admiral began, "I should mention that you're all being promoted. It's not official yet, but it will be as of your arrival on Earth."

The four official officers of the crew saluted with a simultaneous precision that would have done any drill instructor proud. "Thank you, sir!"

Halberton waved a hand. "You deserve it, after making it so far under such conditions. This brings me to my next point." He turned to Falcon. "May I assume, Falcon, that you came this far with the intention of enlisting in the Earth Forces?"

"You may," the pilot affirmed calmly. "However, there are certain conditions; and if you can't accept them, I'll leave the ship and find my own way to influence the war." When the Admiral nodded for him to continue, he went on, "First, I refuse to divulge any information whatsoever that may lead to a successful invasion of the homeland; general tactical and strategic data is one thing, but my mission remains the preservation of the PLANTs. Second, I will not shoot to kill against ZAFT pilots unless the situation leaves me with no other option." He paused. "There are, however, two exceptions. If you want me to kill Rau Le Creuset or Huckebein the Raven, I will be delighted to oblige."

Halberton raised an eyebrow. "What do you have against Huckebein?"

"He used to be Victor Tempest."

"Oh." The Admiral had heard about that one. "I see. Well, Falcon, I can accept your conditions; frankly, I was expecting them. Therefore, I hereby grant you a direct commission in the Earth Alliance Forces as a full commander."

Sophia barely managing to avoid glaring; though at either Halberton or her brother, she couldn't decide. _Even in _our_ military he gets to outrank me?_

"You are hereby assigned to the _Archangel,"_ Halberton went on, "as her wing commander." He glanced at Mu and Murrue. "Assuming neither of you have any objections?"

The Captain shook her head. "Of course not, sir... if Lieutenant La Flaga doesn't."

Mu cracked a smile. "Makes perfect sense, Admiral. For one thing, we have two mobile suits to a single mobile armor, so it only makes sense to put the more experience mobile suit commander in charge. Also, my brother happens to have more _combat_ experience than I do, too."

Halberton looked at him sharply. "Your brother?"

"It's a very long story, Lewis," Falcon informed him. "Nobody really knows what went on back then, anyway, so we just accept it."

"I see." The Admiral shook his head. _Typical of the sort of pilot he associates with; he just never mentioned he was one such himself._ "Pity we can't get hold of any more Gray Demons," he mused. "How's old Laundromat, by the way? I haven't seen him since the war broke out."

"Dead, Lewis," the ace replied. "Endymion Crater; a Zero got him."

Halberton nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good man."

"Yes, he was." _They were all good men and women... may they rest in peace._

The four officers had turned to stare at him. "'Laundromat'?" Natarle questioned, confused.

"Matt Russo," Falcon explained. "He flew under the callsign Laundromat thanks to an incident at the academy; an incident whose details are a deep, dark secret, known only to those few present at the dry-cleaners when it occurred."

"Including me," Halberton said dryly. "That was when Falcon and I first met; he and his buddies were on leave."

"Laundromat," Mu repeated, shaking his head. "I'd heard the Gray Demons attracted the misfits, but that one takes the cake."

"Oh no, it doesn't." Falcon looked almost amused. "You should meet Sparky sometime; his story's even stranger... and more unpleasant."

Hoffman, who had thus far been silent, looked curiously at Halberton. "Sir," he began quietly, "you do know your actions here may not be very popular with Headquarters. Alaska may not approve of the idea of giving a former ZAFT pilot such a post on our most advanced ship..."

"To blazes with Alaska," Halberton said succinctly. "If they didn't expect me to exercise my own initiative, they shouldn't have put me in command of a fleet. After Heliopolis, it's hardly as if the _Archangel_ or the G-weapons are secret anymore, and believe me, we can use a man such as Falcon. The top-scoring ZAFT ace, and a man of absolute integrity... even if he does have his own agenda." He gave the pilot a shrewd look. "You _do_ have your own agenda, don't you, Falcon?"

Falcon nodded. "Always."

Hoffman cleared his throat, realizing that this particular issue was not open to discussion. "Well, then. What of the other Coordinator, this... Kira Yamato. Are we to just forget all about him?"

Murrue's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I think we owe it to him," she said firmly. "Without his aid, we would never have reached here; but he is _not_ a soldier. He was under a great deal of strain, these past weeks, and suffered greatly from having to fight against his own people. He's a kind, sincere boy, and I believe we owe him every consideration for his actions."

Natarle frowned. _She doesn't get it; sometimes, you have to make sacrifices in war, even of those who would rather stay out of it. She doesn't see that... but I do, and now I have a chance to say so,_ she thought, coming to a decision.

"Excuse me, Admiral," she said, stepping forward. "But I find I must agree with Captain Hoffman's sentiment. Kira Yamato has incredible potential, and even now excels as a pilot. His skills would be invaluable to the Earth Forces; I strongly recommend that we keep him aboard."

Halberton spared her barely a glance. "I'm sure the young Coordinator's abilities would be useful to us, Ensign, but as Lieutenant Ramius just pointed out, he is _not_ a soldier at all, let alone with the Earth Forces. We have no jurisdiction over his actions once he departs from this ship."

"Yes, sir, but if we were to convince him..." Natarle thought furiously. "Perhaps by holding his parents, we could put pressure on him..."

The Admiral's eyes swiftly narrowed, but before he could explode, Falcon's cool, one-eyed gaze froze the ensign in her tracks. "You already stepped in it once with Miss Clyne, Ensign," he said coldly. "I suggest you keep your mouth shut lest you suggest anything _else_ of... highly-dubious legality."

Fixed between two glares, Natarle quickly subsided. "My apologies, Admiral, for speaking out of turn," she said nervously.

Halberton sagged back into his chair, looking more tired than angry. "What's past is not our concern," he said wearily. "What matters now is where we go from here."

Hoffman stepped forward once again. "With the destruction of the advance forces," he announced, "we no longer have the additional personnel to allocate to the _Archangel._ I'm afraid you'll have to remain short-handed for the time being, though Commander DiFalco's presence should offset that lack to a certain extent."

The Admiral nodded. "I'm afraid the _Archangel_ will have to descend to Earth with its existing complement; however, you should have no trouble reaching Alaska from here. Fortunate, given that it is essential that your ship and the remaining G-weapons reach the base."

"It seems that Alaska does not share that view," his flag captain murmured.

"Bah." Halberton stood, shaking his head. "What do those pencil-pushers know about the reality of space combat? Even the combat veterans have been so long in desk jobs that their brains have atrophied, and there's nothing worse for a war effort than an armchair commander." He clenched a fist. "It burns me... those pontificating airheads keep wasting precious resources on concessions, while regarding the casualties in battle as nothing more than figures on paper!" Abruptly, he stopped, looking at Falcon. "My apologies about the concessions reference, Falcon; I know..."

The ace shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Lewis. I'm well aware that concessions are not a very smart idea when trying to fight a war; and I dislike the 'expendable solider' syndrome as much as you do. Besides, the only concessions we want can only come at the end of the war, however it is brought about." He raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that the Revolution has already succeeded, don't you?"

"Admiral-" Hoffman began angrily.

Halberton waved a hand. "Don't get all worked-up about it, Captain. You will find Falcon here is a staunch patriot for the PLANTs... and besides, I think he's right. Perhaps not entirely, but one way or another, there will be a compromise at the end of all this. Assuming, of course, that there's enough people left on either side to _propose_ a compromise." He turned back to Murrue. "That's why it's essential that we get the G-weapon project back on track. We need to end this war quickly, before it gets entirely out of hand, and more innocents go the way of the Bloody Valentine. Therefore, it is _imperative_ that you reach safe harbor in Alaska."

Murrue was startled by his vehemence, but then smiled and saluted. "Very well, Sir. I'll be sure to convey your sentiment when we reach Alaska."

Mu likewise brought his hand up. "As a surviving mobile armor pilot, that is one order I cannot refuse." _Anything that brings this war to an end before more get slaughtered like Junius Seven or Endymion Crater..._

Halberton returned their salutes. "I appreciate that," he said sincerely.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Kira stood atop the Strike's torso, staring up at the impassive face above him. It looked almost like it was alive, sometimes; a sleeping warrior, the epitome of the perfect war machine, just waiting for the right pilot to climb in and awaken it to its full potential. 

There was no question that Kira had succeeded in bringing the Strike to its fullest potential; in fact, he had made it into something beyond its designer's wildest dreams... but he was not proud of it. _Maybe I am the right pilot,_ he thought, _but not because I want to be._

He remembered events from the last three weeks. Meeting -and nearly being knifed by- his old friend Athrun Zala, in the exploding Morgenroete factory, atop this very mobile suit. Cutting Miguel Aiman, the Magic Bullet of Dusk, clean in half. Facing Athrun again, blade to blade, yet neither making an aggressive move. Facing Athrun once more, before the advance force was completely destroyed; and one last time, with Lacus Clyne as witness, as they swore to hold back no longer, to show no mercy to each other on the field of battle...

"Sometimes it feels almost as if they're alive, doesn't it?"

Kira turned in surprise, and immediately realized he shouldn't have been startled. Hovering behind him, arms folded over his trench coat, was newly-minted Commander Kenneth DiFalco. As usual, he had appeared silently, merely observing his protégé. _No wonder he's so good,_ Kira thought to himself. _He watches everything; nothing surprises him, because he's already seen it..._

Aloud, he said, "I guess you're right. Kinda silly, isn't it?"

Falcon shook his head. "Not at all. Pilots have empathized with their machines as long as man has had flight. As one wise pilot once wrote, if a man lies to his airplane, it will kill him. They're not just things, Kira; in battle, they become us, as we become them. Just as a machine is merely a collection of inanimate parts without a pilot, a pilot is nothing more than a man in a clumsy suit without his machine. Only when the two become one is either truly complete."

Kira sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean... I think. It's just too bad something like that has to come about in something as terrible as fighting."

The ace shook his head again. "No, Kira. You don't know what I mean, not really. To understand what I'm talking about, you have to understand what it is to be a soldier. War is terrible, yes. But a soldier's duty is _not._ Yes, what he does is something we all wish _no one_ had to do. But there are few purposes more noble than the defense of others. It's a sad thing that a machine such as these comes alive only on the field of battle, where blood is shed, but it is also _right._ To be a protector is a noble calling, Kira."

"Not all soldiers are so noble," the younger Coordinator pointed out.

"I know," Falcon agreed. "In fact, very few are, and I would say that I'm not even one of them. Kira, I said that the _cause_ is noble, not necessarily the man. Most soldiers are just that, men, no better or worse than anyone else. But they are men doing their duty, undertaking a responsibility they _chose_ to bear." He closed his good eye, obviously looking back at something from his past. "I won't lie to you, Kira. A protector is consumed by his duty; he fights for a peace that he cannot share. Even if he survives the war, even if he makes the difficult transition to civilian life, he always remembers. In his dreams, the war always returns; the clash of swords, the crack of bullets, the sizzle of beams... You can take the soldier out of the war, but you can't take the war out of the soldier."

"Then why do it?" Kira demanded. "Why fight, if you can't live with yourself afterwards?"

"The thing is, Kira, you _can_ live with yourself. You pay a price, you always remember the sacrifices... but you also remember that _you_ made a difference; that _you_ helped bring peace about. It's something to be proud of, Kira." Falcon lightly touched the sword hilt at his side. "But perhaps the most important reason, Kira? We fight because someone has to do it... and so that that someone isn't someone else. We fight so that others don't have to." A ghost of a smile. "And some of us... fight for redemption, to make up for our deeds."

Kira slowly shook his head. "Maybe so, Falcon, but all I was fighting for was to get myself and my friends to Earth in one piece. My war is over now."

Falcon nodded. "I agree. You set yourself a goal, Kira, and accomplished it; that's all anyone could ask of you. _I_ am a soldier, and must continue the battle... but you're not. With your friends leaving for home, there's nothing more to hold you here. Don't let anyone con you into thinking that just because you _can_ make a difference, you _must._ Because frankly, they're not the ones who should be making that judgment. The only one who can decide which path is right for you is _you._" He turned away. "That's all I can tell you, Kira. But, as this may be the last time we meet, let me say this: if you were in ZAFT, and I was still commanding the Gray Demons, I'd pull whatever strings I could to get you on my team. And I don't say that lightly."

Then the Falcon of Grimaldi was gone, leaving Kira alone in the hangar.

_I guess that's an honor,_ he thought, reflecting Falcon's parting words._ But only for a soldier... and I'm not one. Am I?_

Kira had suspected since the start that Falcon was not like other people. The teenager did not act like one; he acted like a grown man, a man who'd seen more than his share of battles... and perhaps taken one too many hits to the head. That he was obsessed, Kira did not doubt. Falcon had subordinated everything to his cause, and the younger man rather thought Falcon was slightly unhinged. Only slightly, to be sure; he was no raving lunatic. But his mission -and whatever "sin" that had prompted it- had driven the ace to the breaking point and beyond; now Kira began to think that perhaps it was questions such as the one that faced him now that actually began the process.

_Maybe in a month I'll be as crazy as he is,_ Kira thought to himself, managing to find a little humor in the situation. "If he thinks he can do everything by himself, he is crazy," he said to himself.

"Not crazy," a voice said from below. "Brilliant."

Kira jerked, even more startled than by Falcon's sudden appearance. "Huh?"

When he turned, he found Admiral Halberton looking up at him from the catwalk. "Kira Yamato, I presume. I read about your actions in the report; and Lieutenants Ramius and La Flaga, as well as Commander DiFalco, speak quite highly of you."

That made him a little uncomfortable; he was still unused to such praise. "Well... I had a lot of help."

"I know you did," Halberton acknowledged. "But they didn't help you _fly,_ now did they? That was all you, Kira. All of it."

"I guess." In a bid to gain himself a moment to organize his thoughts, Kira changed the subject. "Uh, you said something about Commander DiFalco...?"

The Admiral nodded. "I said he was brilliant, not crazy. Oh, I'll grant he seems a little more... obsessed than he was when last I saw him, but if I know Falcon, whatever he's up to is another one of his brilliant plans. Make no mistake, Kira: Falcon is not only a superb pilot, but also a tactical and strategic genius." He waved a hand. "But I wasn't talking about him, I was talking about _you._" He looked up at the Strike. "You know, when I first proposed the G-weapon project, in 69, I was merely seeking an adequate countermeasure to ZAFT's mobile suits. Yet with people like you inside them, they suddenly become extraordinary superweapons."

"I wouldn't know about that..."

"I would," Halberton informed him. "And so would Falcon, who gave me a detailed report, from the perspective of an experienced mobile suit pilot. He also said that with one of these machines, you are capable of surpassing even him. Having seen the battle data, I'm inclined to agree." He inclined his head. "In some ways, that's made even more remarkable by the fact that, as I've been informed, your parents are Naturals."

Kira blinked, but nodded. "Uh, yes sir, that's correct."

"Obviously, they knew enough not to try to raise you the same way as a Natural, but rather let you reach your full potential." Halberton nodded to himself. "Part of me wonders what they wanted to achieve by making you a Coordinator; but whatever their reasons, the fact that you are one has saved a lot of lives." He raised a hand, forestalling Kira's protest. "Yes, I know you took a few along the way, but not as many as you saved among the _Archangel_'s crew and passengers, and not as many as will be saved if this ship can continue her mission. Through her, and G-weapons she carries, we may, perhaps, bring this war to the swift end you and I both desire."

"I hope so, Sir," Kira said sincerely. _If I've helped speed up the war's end, it'll have been worth it..._ "Uh, sir, what happens now to the _Archangel,_ and Lieutenant Ramius and the others?"

"They'll be going back to the battlefield," Halberton answered. "They'll be playing a critical role from here on out, if we can get them down to Alaska safely."

The Coordinator nodded to himself; that was much as he expected. But he still had one question. "But... I thought I..."

"I know exactly what you're concerned about," the Admiral said kindly. "You possess certain... abilities... that would make you very valuable to the military. But we're not in the business of drafting people, Kira; and just having you would hardly guarantee us victory, now would it?"

Kira was becoming increasingly torn inside. "But... If I have the power to make a difference, shouldn't I put it to good use?"

Halberton smiled. "Only if you have the will to do it. Those who lack the will never do see it through to the end..."

Their conversation was interrupted as an aide stepped into the hangar. "Sir, the _Menelaos_ would like you back onboard at once."

The Admiral sighed. "They just won't let me have a decent chat with you guys," he complained. "Well, Kira, I leave you with one last piece of advice: if you should ever change your mind, seek out Falcon; he can still teach you a great many things... things that could allow you to surpass even your teacher." He walked toward the hatch. "May you live to see the dawn of a better era!"

Kira watched him go. _What do I do? Where will I go? Falcon's staying on, but my friends are leaving... and I don't want to see any more bloodshed. But... if I have the power to make a difference, shouldn't I...?_ He closed his eyes. _What do I do?_

* * *

_Archangel, _Corridor

* * *

Falcon moved at a steady clip down the corridor toward the _Archangel_'s Bridge, maneuvering with the ease of a man more comfortable in zero-g than a gravity well. _Hm. This ship sure is going to feel empty after the next few hours. I'll be glad to see the refugees gone -one less thing to worry about, and civilians have no place on a warship anyway- but it'll be a shame to see Kira and his friends go. They have the makings of genuinely good soldiers._ He paused. _Well, except maybe Kuzzey... and especially Flay._

With these thoughts in mind, he was startled when he ran into four of those students... still in uniform. "Didn't expect to run into you guys here," he commented, coming to a halt. "Aren't you going to miss your shuttle?"

Tolle grinned, and held up two halves of a piece of paper. "Sorry to disappoint you, Falcon... but we're not going on that shuttle. As of today, we're all Earth Forces soldiers."

Falcon blinked; the strongest display of surprise they'd yet seen him exhibit. "That... is a surprise," he admitted. "A pleasant one, to be sure, but till a surprise."

"It was Flay's idea," Sai told him. "She was the first to join up, and I figured that what she said about not sitting by while there was still shooting going on was the right idea... and I thought I shouldn't just abandon her..."

"And things went from there," Mir finished.

The pilot's eye narrowed. "It was _Flay's_ idea? I would never have figured her for the soldier type."

"Well, after what happened to the advance force..." Kuzzey pointed out. "I'm not really that surprised."

"So anyway," Tolle said, "we're off to tell Kira, and drop off his discharge papers. Have you seen him lately, Falcon?" He took a closer look at Falcon's collar, and swallowed. "I mean, can you tell us where he might be, Sir?"

Falcon rolled his eye. "Tolle, if you ever call me 'sir' when we're off-duty, I'll put you on report. I don't operate that way; not in ZAFT, not now. I was your classmate before I was your superior officer... Crewman Koenig." He waited for the relieved chuckles to die down, and jerked his head back the way he'd come. "I think you'll find Kira in the hangar, waiting to board the shuttle. You'd better hurry."

"Right. Thanks, Falcon," Sai said, and moved on.

Mir, however, lingered. "I'll be right with you," she told the others, and turned back to Falcon. "I think something's up," she said quietly. "With _Flay_ of all people enlisting..."

Falcon nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's obvious that she's out for vengeance... but there's something else going on, I suspect." He rubbed his eyepatch. "I think... that she might actually be planning to pilot the Strike."

Her eyes widened. "But... she can't. That's crazy; a Natural can't even operate it anymore!"

"Yeah, that's true... but Flay may not quite understand that. She may have been attending a technical college, but I don't think she knows much about mobile suits." The ace shook his head. "Let's keep an eye on the situation; but I don't think we should worry too much just yet. In order to launch, Flay would have to get permission from the Bridge, and any attempt would probably end right there... which doesn't mean she won't find some _other_ way of carrying out whatever scheme she has in mind."

"But you're smarter than she is, right?" Mir smiled. "You'll be able to spot whatever she's trying to do."

"I hope so. Now get going; you don't want to miss seeing Kira off."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Pal, sitting at the fire-control station as usual, noticed something on his display, and instantly began to think he had very bad luck. 

How else to explain the fact that, for the second time in a row, it was _he_ who first noticed the signs of enemy attacks?

"Radar jamming, Captain!" he called out. "N-jammer levels increasing!"

Murrue whirled around. _"What?_ An enemy attack, now?"

"Looks that way, Ma'am." Pal typed furiously, bringing up all relevant data. "Looks like... one _Nazca,_ and two _Laurasias._ Profiles suggest the _Nazca_ is _Vesalius,_ and one of the _Laurasias_ is the _Gamow._ The other is not named in our database."

"Rau," Falcon hissed, coming out of the elevator. "I should have known he wouldn't give up while we were still in space."

"But... we're in the center of the _Eighth Fleet's_ formation," Natarle protested. "Are they that crazy?"

"You said it yourself, Ensign," he said grimly. "Fleets are conspicuous. Remember, a _Nazca_ or _Laurasia_ has capacity for up to six mobile suits each, which means we could be facing up to eighteen in this one engagement. I doubt they're up to full strength... but _Vesalius_ and _Gamow_ both have G-weapons aboard. We could be in for a real fight."

Murrue closed her eyes. _Not again... not when we're so close to reaching Earth..._ "Sound Level One Battlestations," she ordered. "Falcon, I suggest you get to the Raptor, just in case. Without a pilot for the Strike..."

"Agreed." _Curse you, Rau. Today's the day... your last, if I have anything to say about it._

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Kira stood in line, waiting to board the shuttle to _Menelaos,_ and from there to Earth. He had come here despite his new misgivings, and thought that he had made the right choice. _Falcon's right. I set myself a goal, and I succeeded; not it's time for me to go home._

There was really nothing to hold him here anymore. His friends were leaving; and, while he considered Falcon a friend by now, as well, there was no doubt whatsoever that the ace pilot could take care of himself just fine. _This is your war, Falcon... not mine._

"Hey, Kira!"

Kira jerked his head around the sound of his name, and his eyes widened at the sight. His classmates were coming toward him... in uniform. "Guys? Wha... why are you still...?"

Tolle thrust a rolled-up piece of paper at him. "This is yours, Kira. Your discharge papers. But you might be a little lonely on the flight home."

Sai nodded. "You're the only one of us going; we've decided to stay here, with the _Archangel._"

"We formally enlisted about an hour ago," Mir concurred. "Thought maybe there was a little more we could do to help end the war. The _Archangel_ is shorthanded, after all."

"Besides," Kuzzey added, "if Flay can handle it, so can we."

Kira's eyes widened even farther. "What? _Flay_ enlisted? What's going on?"

Something flickered in Mir's eyes, but she held her tongue; instead, Sai replied, "Like Mir said: there's still more we can do here."

"Besides," Tolle said with a grin, "it beats going back to college! This is way more important, anyway."

Sai gripped Kira's shoulder. "Good luck, Kira. Make sure you make it to Earth safely, okay?"

It was too much for Kira's already-confused mind to take in. "But... You're not... soldiers..."

"We fight because someone has to," Mir told him, unconsciously echoing Falcon's words. "We fight so that other people don't have to. People like you, Kira."

She'd have said more, but the alarm klaxon rang throughout the hangar. _"All hands to Level One Battlestations! Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations!"_

Tolle shook his friend's hand one last time. "Gotta go, Kira. Good luck!"

The four reluctantly turned to leave him. "We'll meet again, don't worry!" Mir called over her shoulder.

"We'll be fine," Sai added. "Just make sure you are, too!"

Kuzzey, predictably, had other things on his mind. "Whatever happens, please don't be tempted to join ZAFT!"

Then they were gone, leaving Kira with his own thoughts. Staring at the discharge papers, he hardly noticed the crewman at the shuttle, urging him to hurry up. _They're all... staying? I'm the _only_ one leaving?_

He looked from the piece of paper to the object he held in his other hand: an origami flower, given to him by a little girl, in thanks for protecting her and the other refugees all the way to Earth. _"Thank you for protecting the rest of us till now,"_ she'd said.

_"We fight so that other people don't have to..."_

_"To be a protector is a noble calling, Kira."_

_"If you have the power to make a difference, why not put it good use?"_

_"Only if you have the will to do it. Those who lack the will never do see it through to the end..."_

_They're right,_ Kira thought at last._ We fight so that others don't have to, to be protectors... to make a difference._ His head came up, and his fist clenched over the paper, crumpling it._ I _will_ see this through to the end,_ he vowed._ And make sure nobody else dies for nothing!_

He pushed off from the deck. "Go ahead without me," he told the crewman at the shuttle... and left to fly the dark skies once again.

* * *

Author's note: The students have officially joined the military, and Falcon has officially become an officer on the _Archangel._ Soon, now, the attack on the Eighth Fleet will begin, and battle will rage anew… 

Ninofchaos, I hope this chapter was as good as the last.

Infinite Freedom, I have not yet decided exactly what mobile suits Tempest will be flying. He _will_ be turning up at one point in a LaGOWE, but beyond that, I can't really say.

Yes, Falcon will be paired with someone, but, as per my usual practice, I intend to keep that uncertain until exactly the right moment.

As to your other point, as I said, it's not necessary, that's why. I'm simply not in the habit of discussing some things, particularly over the Internet.

Now, I noticed your review for NukeDawg's A New Saga. My only comment: no bet. I don't throw money away, if you get my drift.

NukeDawg, devious though Flay clearly is, she is no match for Ken DiFalco. I doubt she could possibly do anything to derail Falcon's master plan; besides which, I don't think she'd really care. She wants vengeance, so whatever Falcon may be planning to stop GENESIS -which, of course, she hasn't even heard of- would be of little interest to her.

Ominae, I really haven't figured out all the details myself yet… though another flashback to the duel with Tempest is coming up in the next chapter.

Deathzealot, thanks; though at present I don't think I'll need it.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, glad to see you're still enjoying it. As for what will happen next… well, it'll be a little different this time around, introducing, for one thing, the first truly new element to the storyline.

N/a, as stated above, I shan't be revealing any details of the pairing just yet. Glad to know you like the story, though.

Warp Ligia Obscura, I always respond to reviews for completed stories, assuming the on doing the reviewing is also reading something else of mine.

Now, to take things in order. Yes, I know of MG3's title; I was simply pointing out where the term _originated_, which was more pertinent to the context.

Yeah, I guess Falcon _did_ say essentially the same thing to Natarle Kevin did. But hey, they're right… if bloodthirsty.

I already know about the error in Chapter 14's notes; Dragoon Swordsman pointed it out first, followed closely by Shinji Ikari. It's just that I don't usually bother correcting errors in the notes, as long as my point still gets across (which, in this case it apparently did; Shinji Ikari seemed more amused than anything else).

I'm not sure which incident you're referring to with Chapter 21, but since there were only two… If you're talking about the case where a slight error in the Zero System cost Kevin a buster rifle, my reasoning was simply that no computer system, even the Zero System, is infallible. If it didn't make mistakes, it wouldn't be believable. However, if you're talking about at the end, where it nearly turns him into a vegetable, it's even simpler: power surges do bad things to electronics of all kinds, especially something that delicately-balanced.

Not quite sure what you're referring to with Chapter 23's notes; I did make reference to being surprised by Garcia's survival, but I don't think I speculated on it at all. Or was that _your_ theory (which would explain my finding no reference to it)?

It seems I'm the _only_ person who hasn't the read the Astray series; you're perhaps the second or third to clarify Lowe's presence at the Marshall Island battle. I guess I should get around to reading it sometime…

Actually, the Chapter 24 comparison grew out of something a couple of reviewers were talking about. It wasn't until the matter started coming up in reviews that even thought of comparing it to Les Enfant Terribles, so it never occurred to me to have a Solidus. I suppose the closest would be Michael Carnehan, the clone who gets offed in Chapter 14 (though at the time it wasn't known he was a clone). Something might come up in A Call to Arms about that, though. Hmm… have to think about it, I think.

The Chapter 32 revelation was actually Shinji Ikari's idea. I decided it made sense -though I _wish_ his face was actually shown at some point- so I went with it.

Never heard of "Who Dares Wins"; I came across it in MGS2, in reference to the British Special Air Service, and decided I liked it (incidentally, you'll find the term popping up a time or two in The Will to Power, another story I wrote last year).

Once again, I never thought to compare Kevin and his clones to Les Enfant Terribles, so the "Boss" references were just something I found appropriate.

Phew! Haven't had author's notes this long since the last time Shinji Ikari reviewed something of mine. Hope the chapter was worth all the effort to get it ready; now I go to debug it with Quick Edit. Once more unto the breach… -Solid Shark


	11. Chapter 11: Battle Royale

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar, February 13th, C.E. 71

* * *

Ken DiFalco entered the hangar at high speed, using a bulkhead to rebound toward his mobile suit, silently cursing all the while. 

_Rau, you unmitigated bastard,_ he seethed._ Don't you know when to give up? Sure, you may maul the Eighth Fleet -probably even destroy it- but do you honestly think you can take_ Archangel?_ You couldn't stop me before; I doubt you can stop me now._

Now, more than ever, he regretted the fact that Kira was leaving. He could really have used the younger man's aid in the battle he knew was coming; he knew better than anyone that he was not infallible.

Shaking his head in disgust, Falcon pulled himself into the Raptor Gundam's cockpit and began what had now become a routine. First straps, then main power... then power cable... _Then we see just what the devil we're up against. There'll be enough hell to pay as is._

"Bridge," he called, keying his radio, "this is Falcon. Give me a sitrep, will you? I need to know what's going on out there."

_"The ZAFT vessels are entering attack range now, Commander,"_ Natarle told him._ "They're deploying mobile suits; ten GINNs, Aegis, Buster, Blitz, Duel... and one CGUE. Catalogue match with database update from_ Menelaos..._ It's a DEEP Arms, Commander."_ She hesitated._ "The same one you fought during the attack on the advance forces."_

"Victor," Falcon whispered. "Understood, Ensign. What are the orders from the flagship?"

_"We're to stay put,"_ she replied; from her tone, Falcon suspected she wasn't entirely happy about it._ "Apparently, Admiral Halberton doesn't want to risk the _Archangel_ any more than he has to."_ Another slight hesitation._ "I think he intends to sacrifice the Fleet, if that's what it takes."_

"He does," he told her. "That's Lewis Halberton, through and through; his life is expendable, if victory is the result." _But I think you're making a mistake, Lewis. _Archangel_ is the only weapon that could possibly stop them, and you should know it..._ "Any instructions as regards our mobile weapons?"

"Nothing specific; apparently, it's being left to our discretion. The Captain, however, feels that we should avoid launching if it all possible. For one thing, mobile suit recovery might be difficult under reentry conditions."

Falcon raised an eyebrow. "She _is_ aware that the Raptor is -theoretically- capable of independent atmospheric reentry?"

Natarle nodded. _"She is. But she doesn't want to risk it."_

He sighed. "Understood; let me know if there are any changes to our orders." Technically, of course, he was not quite in the same chain of command as Murrue; as wing commander, he could theoretically overrule her where the ship's mobile weapons were concerned. He was not, however, suicidal. "Falcon out."

The pilot was just about to close the Raptor's hatch when he heard a tapping sound on the outer fuselage. "Falcon?"

Falcon gazed out impassively for a moment, before finally unstrapping and moving to the cockpit's entrance. "What do you want, Sophia?" he said coolly. "I don't have time-"

"Just wait," his sister asked, raising a hand. "Give me a minute, and hear me out."

He thought about it, and finally shrugged. _Not as if I'm likely to launch within the next few minutes anyway._ "Okay. Fine. I suppose you're about to explain why you're wearing a flightsuit?" He examined it carefully... more carefully than he might have, for it was gold with blue trim. Images of another woman in those colors went through his mind...

Sophia saw the brief, almost imperceptible flicker in his eye, but chose to ignore it; even if she'd actually seen it, she doubted he'd explain. "I want to fly this mission with you, Falcon," she said simply.

Falcon's eye narrowed. "Don't be ridiculous, Sophia. We've been over this before: you're not trained-"

"You're right," she interrupted. "I'm not trained for space combat. But I've got two advantages. One: I designed this mobile suit. Two: I know how to aim a gun. In fact, I know quite a bit more than that." She took a deep breath. "Falcon, I lied to you, and to everyone else on this ship. I didn't flunk law school."

He looked at her strangely. "I already knew that; but what in the world does that have to do with this situation?"

"I didn't flunk law school because I wasn't there," Sophia said bluntly. "My records were falsified when I became involved in the G-weapon project, for various security reasons. I was actually in _flight_ school, Falcon. And I didn't serve a tour with JAG; I was taking advanced air combat training."

Falcon's gaze turned skeptical. "You're telling me you're a pilot."

"I'm telling you I'm a _combat_ pilot. Like you said, I'm not trained in space combat... but I know how to fly, and I know how to fight in atmosphere." She smiled. "Remember the Battle of Victoria, last year? I was there. Same for the Battle of Carpentaria... though I'm not quite so proud of that, seeing as we lost. I was sent to space briefly after that, for the Battle of Jachin Due; then I went back to Earth, where I participated in the First Casablanca Sea Battle, and the Battle of Suez."

Her brother snorted. "I notice only one of those battles was a success, though."

"Not my fault." Sophia's smile widened. "The alias 'Victorian Kestrel' mean anything to you, little brother? A certain ace..."

"...Who took down four GINNs all by herself," Falcon finished. "One of the Alliance's top fighter aces in the Earth-bound fighting." For the first time, there was genuine respect in his eyes when he looked at her. "So there _is_ more to you than engineering, Sophia." He tilted his head. "Why'd you give up flying?"

"I didn't," she said simply. "This was supposed to be a temporary assignment, one I accepted because I knew I had the skills, and if my skills could help end the war..." She shrugged. "I was supposed to go back to fighters after finishing at Heliopolis; _Archangel_ was going to drop me off. But it looks like I'll be staying awhile, now."

He nodded slowly. "Perhaps, Sister," he said, just as slowly, "we understand each other a little better than I thought." Falcon reached out and grasped her hand. "Welcome aboard, Kestrel."

Sophia grinned; she had a feeling this newfound camaraderie might extend only to the battlefield -and he still scared her out of her wits most times- but for the first time in awhile, she felt comfortable around him. "Thank you, Iron Eagle," she said, allowing him to haul her aboard.

As she settled herself into the gunner's seat, Falcon strapped back in and began cutting the bypass from the gunner's controls to his. "Cannons are yours, Kestrel; I don't recommend you even _try_ the Death Blossom System." He shot a glance over his shoulder. "You still know how to work things back there?"

"I _did_ design it, didn't I?" Sophia looked curiously at the power cable connecting her brother's flightsuit to the Raptor's power supply. "I suppose it's pointless of me to ask what _that_ is for?"

"Mm-hm." He tapped commands into his main display, linking it with the Bridge's tactical data. "So, does Murrue know of your combat experience?"

She shook her head. "No. She knows I was at Jachin, but during my assignments on Earth, she had other duties. She has no idea I'm the Kestrel... though after this battle I guess she will."

"I guess you're right." Falcon hit a couple more switches, and leaned back. "Well, that's all I can do, for now. Now we wait for the order to launch."

Sophia looked at him curiously. "You sure it'll come to that?"

"I'm always sure."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

_This is costing too much,_ Murrue thought bitterly, watching the ZAFT forces -led by the four G-weapons- begin to tear into the Eighth Fleet._ One ship and two mobile suits simply cannot be worth the sacrifices we're making. First Heliopolis, then Artemis, then the advance force... now maybe the entire Eighth Fleet. It's too much._

"The enemy forces have engaged the fleet's outer perimeter," Natarle said unnecessarily. "Eighth Fleet is deploying mobile armors." She shook her head. "I don't think it'll be enough, Ma'am."

Murrue sighed. "You're probably right, Natarle." _And we're so shorthanded, we may not make it ourselves..._

Almost as if in reaction to her thoughts, the Bridge hatch slid aside, admitting Tolle, Mir, Sai, and Kuzzey, who quickly moved to take their accustomed positions. "Sorry we're late," Tolle apologized, on the way to the helm. "It won't happen again."

The Captain stared at them. "What are you people doing here? I thought..."

"They formally enlisted earlier today," Natarle informed her. "Captain Hoffman accepted them, and I personally approved it."

"But... why?"

"We still have a job to do, Captain," Mir responded. "We've done our part so far; we can't quit now."

Murrue started to protest, but held her tongue. _These kids,_ she thought, with a mixture of respect, admiration, and shock. _Braver than some soldiers twice their age..._

That brought to mind something else, and she frowned. "Ensign, where's Sophia?"

"Lieutenant DiFalco left for the hangar at least ten minutes ago, Captain," Natarle replied. "I gather she's serving as Raptor's gunner at the moment."

Murrue turned to look down into CIC. "What? But Sophia isn't a combat soldier..."

The ensign shook her head. "Incorrect, Captain; I sent a query to the _Menelaos_ just after she left, and they sent a copy of Lieutenant DiFalco's _real_ service record. It seems she's a highly-trained atmospheric fighter pilot, who served with distinction at Victoria, Carpentaria, Casablanca, _and_ El Alamein."

"What?"

Natarle looked just as bemused. "It seems, Captain, that we have the 'Victorian Kestrel' aboard."

Murrue's eyes were wide as dinner plates. _Sophia is one of our top aces and she never said a _word_ about it? No wonder she always stressed she knew nothing about _space_ combat... she never said anything about atmospheric combat, did she?_ She smiled involuntarily. _It's reassuring, I guess... but we're going to have a long talk once all this is over._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Pilot's Locker Room

* * *

Kira opened the hatch to the locker room and entered swiftly. He was in a hurry, expecting the _Archangel_ to launch its mobile weapons at any moment. He didn't want to be late. 

He was just opening the locker containing his flightsuit when the hatch opened again behind him. Almost instantly, there was a gasp. "Kira!"

"Huh?" Kira turned just in time for a girl in a pink uniform to slam into him, knocking him into the bulkhead. "Flay? What are you doing here?"

"You... you'd left us," Flay burst out, clutching him. "At least, I thought you had; so there was no one to fly the Strike, so I thought I..."

He looked at her incredulously. _She wanted to fly the Strike? But..._ "Flay, don't be silly," he told her. "Even if you'd had pilot training, a girl like you couldn't possibly pilot a mobile suit; even Lieutenant La Flaga can't keep up with everything that goes on in one."

She nodded, tears collecting in small globes in the air. "I know, but... I had to do _something..."_

Kira smiled at her. "Well, I _didn't_ leave, so I'll go get back in the Strike's cockpit. _I'll_ fight for _both_ of us." _It's the least I can do, after what happened to the advance force..._

Flay blinked back tears; though inwardly, she was quite, quite pleased, just as pleased as she looked... but for a far different reason. "You will, Kira?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Of course I will. And, uh..." He paused, feeling uncomfortable (a feeling which, a distant corner of his mind noted, had become all too common of late). "I've taken what you said to heart," he said at last. "I can't just run away anymore; this war will continue unless someone does something about it... and like Lieutenant La Flaga said, I have the power to make a difference. It's just the way it is, so I'll do my best until we end this war."

_Perfect..._ Flay thought. She hugged him tighter, then looked right into Kira's eyes. "Well, then, let me say this: I'll protect_ you..."_

Before he could say another word, she kissed him, and suddenly Kira had something besides the battle to think about.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

By now, several minutes into the battle, Falcon had done more than simply view it through _Archangel_'s systems; now he was hacked into several ships of the Eighth Fleet itself, using them to get a wider perspective on the fierce engagement. 

"No wonder you're so good," Sophia commented; she herself, not having quite her brother's mental advantages, couldn't make sense of the glut of data he was viewing. "You get as much information about the situation as you can, _before_ you make a move."

"Pretty much," he murmured absently. "You should see me play chess."

"I'll pass, thanks." _I don't doubt you could checkmate me in three moves or so. Hmm..._

While Falcon had spent his time analyzing the battle, his sister had occupied herself by examining the Raptor's cockpit. Since becoming its official pilot, he'd made his own personal touches to it... most notably a photograph stuck on the instrument panel.

As soon as Sophia caught sight of it, she began to understand Falcon's strange reaction to seeing her flightsuit. The blonde in the picture, though her suit was ZAFT-style, also wore gold and blue; and from the way Falcon would occasionally glance it -apparently unconsciously- she got the idea that the girl was dead.

_I wonder who she was, and what she could have meant to Falcon... Is it even _possible_ to get close enough to him that he actually mourns you?_ She pondered that for a time._ Maybe... maybe Metzinger didn't _quite_ achieve what he wanted. Maybe there _is_ a human being in there. Yeah, there has to be... if nothing else, because I don't believe he cracks jokes by_ accident.

Falcon's voice broke into her thoughts. "The flightsuit looks good on you, Sophia," he said softly, almost idly.

Sophia flushed, surprised by the compliment; it wasn't like the cold-blooded ace she'd seen since Heliopolis. "Thanks," she managed. "Custom-tailored, the same one I wore when flying fighters."

"I figured." His eye narrowed, examining the data on his screen. "We've just lost _Cassandros,"_ he commented, seeing one source of telemetry turn to static. _"Achilles _and _Telamon _are gone; _Xerxes_ and _Paris_ aren't in much better shape." He shook his head. "We need to be out there, Sis."

"I know." Sophia wasn't the tactical genius her brother was, but she was a veteran, too, and knew a bad situation when she saw it. "Actually, I'm surprised you haven't ordered a launch yet, _Commander_ DiFalco."

Falcon turned his head. "Do I _look_ crazy? I may technically be in a separate chain of command, but only once have I dared to overrule a ship's captain in _any_ matter; and then only because Kyle Kreitzman is a complete and total idiot."

"Who?"

_"Nacht Jaeger_'s captain," he answered. "The only reason he even has a command is because he has ties to Ezalia Joule; one of the few political captains who didn't get killed in the early stages of the war."

"Oh." _Okay, whatever._ Sophia turned her attention back to Falcon's displays, and winced as another screen turned to static. "Looks like we've lost another one, Falcon."

"I know." Falcon scrutinized his radar display, noting which IFF beacons were still in play, and which had vanished. _"Ptolemaeus_ just blew." He cursed quietly, and keyed his radio link with the Bridge. "Murrue, we've got to do something," he said without preamble. "The Eighth Fleet's getting slaughtered out there."

Murrue sighed. _"I know, Falcon, but Admiral Halberton's orders were explicit: _Archangel_ is not to engage in combat if it can possibly be avoided."_

"Well, it can't be," he said bluntly. "I strongly suggest you call the flagship, and give 'em the facts of life. _Archangel_ is Rau's target, and if he has to blow through the entire Fleet to get to us, he will."

She closed her eyes. _"I suppose you're right."_ She looked over her shoulder at Kuzzey. _"Crewman Buskirk, get me a line to the _Menelaos._ Falcon, you might want to stay on the line; the Admiral seems to respect your judgment."_

"He does. I'll be waiting."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can convince him?"

"I'd better be able to," Falcon said grimly. "If the man's going to recruit an ace pilot, the least he can do is listen to what he has to say..."

On his screen, Murrue looked up at him. _"We're connected with the _Menelaos,_ Falcon. Stand by."_

Instantly, Halberton's face appeared on Raptor's other monitor. _"What do you want?"_ he demanded, clearly distracted.

_"I'm hereby requesting permission for the _Archangel_ to begin its descent sequence, Admiral,"_ Murrue said bluntly._ "We need to start now, if we're to at all."_

_"What?"_ Halberton's expression suggested he couldn't decide whether or not to glare._ "What are you talking about?"_

From off-screen came Hoffman's voice. _"You can't be serious! Are you people trying to run away to save yourselves?"_

"With all due respect, Captain Hoffman," Falcon said coldly, "be quiet." He met Halberton's eyes directly. "Lewis, this ship is Rau's target; he wouldn't be bothering with the Eighth Fleet otherwise. If we don't get out of here, he'll just destroy everything in his path until he _does_ get to us. Our only option is to begin descent before it's too late."

The Admiral closed his eyes, considering; clearly, he was torn between the notion that the enemy was so vastly outnumbered that they couldn't win -and thus _Archangel_'s departure _could_ be seen as cowardice- and the fact that he trusted Falcon's judgment, particularly where ZAFT's capabilities were concerned.

_"All right,"_ he said finally._ "I'll take your word for it, Falcon; can't afford not to, given how valuable _Archangel_ and her cargo is."_ He looked over at Murrue._ "Very well,_ Archangel,_ begin descent now."_ He smiled._ "And you know, Lieutenant Ramius, you haven't changed a bit. Still reckless as ever."_

She returned the smile. _"As you know, sir, a subordinate learns from her superior. We'll begin descent at once."_ She saluted. _"It was an honor to sail with the Eighth Fleet, however briefly, sir."_

Both images disappeared from the monitors, and Falcon nodded to himself. "All right, Sophia. Finish whatever preparations you need to make, got it?"

Sophia looked up from her targeting systems. "Huh? But we're not going to be launching... are we?"

"We are if I can manage to convince Murrue that the ship needs covering fire on the way in." The thought of launching reminded him of something else, and he closed his eye, concentrating.

"Uh, Falcon?" his sister asked, when it had gone on several moments. "What are you doing?"

"Quiet," he responded. "I need to think." _That feeling... how close are you, Rau? Are you out there...? _At last, he opened his eye, and nodded. "All right. Rau is here, but not in a mobile suit; we won't be fighting him today."

Sophia looked at him, puzzled. "How can you tell if a man is nearby just by thinking about it, anyway?"

"It's a gift," Falcon said simply; she couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

She _did_ decide to take his word for it. Falcon did not make unqualified statements if he wasn't absolutely sure, and if _he_ was absolutely sure... "So what now?"

"We wait. We wait until the right moment to strike."

* * *

Outside the Raptor, Mu and Murdoch were discussing the situation. "Descending?" Mu said incredulously. "When we're still under attack?" 

Murdoch shrugged. "Hey, ain't _my_ fault, Lieutenant; but I guess griping's better than just sittin' there worrying and not doin' anything."

"Yeah," the pilot agreed. "It's just... No pilot likes being in a situation beyond his control."

"Hey, how do you think _we_ feel?" the mechanic demanded, indicating himself and his fellow grease monkeys. "At least you guys go out there and shoot something; all _we_ do is sit around or fix anything that breaks at a bad time."

"Got a point there- Hey, wha-?"

Mu broke off, seeing another pilot, already suited up, enter the hangar. "Hey," Kira called. "The Strike ready, Mr. Murdoch?"

"Uh, yeah," Murdoch managed, mouth gaping. "I, uh, I..."

"Even if we fight off the ZAFT ships and GINNs, there's still the four G-weapons," Kira explained obliquely. "Not to mention Tempest's CGUE. We may have to launch, so I thought I should be ready." To the astonishment of the two older men, he actually smiled. "We _are_ still at Level One Battlestations, right?"

He disappeared into his cockpit, leaving the other two to stare at each other in shock. "I thought he left on the _Menelaos'_ launch," Murdoch murmured. "What's he still doin' here?"

"I don't know," Mu replied, shaking his head. "Maybe Falcon got through to him; or maybe he just didn't know what he'd do with himself as a civilian again. Who knows." He smiled slowly. "But you know, I'm glad he stuck around."

"Yeah..."

Inside the Strike, Kira began strapping himself in, and keyed a radio link with the Raptor. "Hey, Commander," he called. "You ready?"

Falcon's face appeared on the screen. "Kira? Just what in blazes are you doing here? I thought you left."

"Couldn't just leave you guys behind, could I?" Kira took a closer look, and noticed something behind his mentor. "Hey, isn't that...?"

"Yeah, it's me," Sophia confirmed, appearing on his other radio monitor. "_Lieutenant_ DiFalco; but you can call me Sophia. No rank among combat pilots." She smiled. "Kestrel will do, too, if you prefer."

He blinked. "Kestrel? As in...?"

Falcon nodded. "That's right, amigo; my sister the ace. She apparently has hidden depths." Kira couldn't tell if the ace was being sarcastic; while it was sometimes possible to discern what emotion might be behind any given statement, Falcon was usually quite inscrutable.

"So," Sophia said, after an appropriate time of respectful silence, "you'll have a little more help out there, if -when- we launch."

Falcon nodded. "Yeah. What she said."

Kira shrugged. _Okay... Thought they couldn't stand each other, but..._ "So what are we up against, exactly?" he said aloud.

"Two _Laurasias_ -one of them the _Gamow-_ and the _Vesalius,"_ Falcon answered. "Also, ten GINNs, Huckebein's DEEP Arms, and the four captured G-weapons. In other words, trouble. Fortunately, we have an entire fleet to keep them busy this time." Something in his eye flickered, concurrent with a flash on his display. "Correction: we _had_ an entire fleet. We just lost another ship."

The younger pilot sighed. "We can't keep this up; the Fleet will be wiped out at this rate." He glanced at another monitor. "Lieutenant La Flaga?"

Mu nodded grimly. "Yeah, I know." He keyed his own link with the Bride. "Captain, the Eighth Fleet is getting slaughtered out there! We can't just sit by any longer, we have to _do_ something."

Murrue shook her head. _"I understand what you're saying, Lieutenant, but if we launch now, it will be very difficult to retrieve mobile weapons-"_

"According to the manuals," Kira interrupted, "both the Strike and Raptor are capable of reentering the atmosphere on there own, so that's not a factor."

She stared at him. _"Kira? Wha-? But... you left with the shuttle..."_

"That's not important right now, Murrue," Sophia told her. "What matters is that they're right: we need to be out there, and these two machines can survive reentry if they have to. Come on, Murrue!"

Murrue hesitated, unable to decide what to do. _"But..."_

"Enough," Falcon cut in, losing patience. "As wing commander on this bucket of bolts, I hereby order launch of the Strike, Raptor, and Moebius Zero."

Her gaze snapped to him. _"Commander DiFalco-!"_ she snapped, angered into formality.

"We can discuss it if we survive this battle," he said coldly. "Crewman Haw, get us set up for catapult launch."

_"Uh, yes, Commander,"_ Mir managed._ "Strike to starboard catapult, Zero to port; Raptor, prepare to follow the Zero."_

As the preparations got underway, Mu whistled to himself. "You know, Falcon," he said quietly, "you may have just bought yourself some trouble, you know."

"Tough," Falcon said succinctly. "If they're gonna recruit an ace pilot, the least they can do is listen to him; and technically, I _do_ have the authority to issue that order."

"Besides," Sophia added, "I can maybe help cool down Murrue a bit; besides, she'll be spending some of her ire on _me,_ too, since I didn't tell her about my... exploits."

Mu shrugged. "Your funeral."

_Sorry, already had that,_ Falcon thought._ Endymion was _not_ pleasant._

* * *

_Menelaos, _Bridge

* * *

"Sir," a crewman called, "the _Archangel_ is opening her flight decks!" 

Halberton frowned. "Just what are they _thinking?"_

"Commander DiFalco's influence, perhaps?" Hoffman suggested. "If the _Archangel_'s reentry is delayed, ZAFT might have a better chance-"

"I don't like what you're implying, Captain," the Admiral said coldly. "I may not approve of Falcon's actions here -and I agree this is probably his idea- but we'll have no more talk about him being a potential ZAFT agent. Falcon doesn't operate that way."

"Yes, sir," the captain acknowledged in a subdued tone. "Sorry, Admiral."

Halberton waved a hand. "Not your fault, Captain; it's a natural suspicion to have. But unlike you, I know Falcon, and he keeps his word." _Though right now, I'm not sure if you've got your head on straight, old friend. The Eighth Fleet is doomed, you have to know that; why risk yourself trying to save us?_

He knew the answer, of course. The shadows of Endymion always returned; those memories guaranteed Falcon would do everything in his power to try to prevent another massacre like that.

* * *

_Archangel, _Catapults

* * *

In the flight decks, three pilots and a gunner readied themselves for launch. "Here we go," Kira whispered to himself, gripping his controls a little tighter. 

"Be careful," Mu advised. "Even _I've _never flown a sortie in a situation like this. What about you, Falcon?" he asked his brother.

Falcon shook his head. "Sorry, no. In fact, this might be a little tricky for me; I've never been in a battle where gravity is much of a factor."

"First time for everything."

_"Strike,"_ Mir called from the Bridge,_ "you're cleared to launch."_

"Roger that." Kira took a deep breath. "Kira Yamato, launching!"

Even as Strike hurtled out into space, Mu hit the appropriate switches on his controls. "Stay cool, Falcon, and good luck," he called. "Hawk of Endymion, launching!"

Raptor quickly took the Zero's place. _"Need any special gear this time out, Commander?"_ Murdoch asked.

To his surprise, it was Sophia who answered. "Affirm, Mr. Murdoch. I need a shoulder unit from the Launcher pack."

"Got it, Lieutenant."

While the unit was being fitted into place, Falcon glanced back at his sister. "Good idea," he commented. "This way you'll be able to target more than one enemy at a time."

"Actually, I was thinking more about being able to direct more firepower at a single target," she replied. "But that'll work, too."

_"You're cleared to launch, Commander,"_ Mir informed them._ "Good luck."_

"Roger that." Falcon slid his visor down. "Grimaldi Falcon and Victorian Kestrel; Raptor Gundam launching."

* * *

Earth Orbit

* * *

Commander Huckebein, the man once known as Victor Tempest, smiled to himself, eye cold behind his mask. "There you are, Falcon," he murmured. "You're coming out to play, huh? Well, it's time to settle our old score... once and for all." 

He idly flexed his left hand, rubbing the last two fingers together. _I remember our last duel, Commander; we hurt each other badly that day. This time... it'll be permanent._

Tempest wasn't the only one to notice the launch. Athrun and Dearka did, as well; Dearka being considerably more concerned. Athrun knew he could avoid Kira with fair ease in this battle... but if Dearka knew Falcon, they'd be coming into direct conflict, and soon.

_Cheer up, Dearka,_ he told himself._ Commander Huckebein's here, too; he should keep Falcon distracted for awhile. Maybe Falcon will even manage to kill him this time..._

Huckebein the Raven was not well-liked among ZAFT.

"I'm reading a DEEP Arms," Sophia informed her pilot. "As well as the Buster. Got a target preference?"

"Tempest," Falcon replied without hesitation. "I won't fight Dearka if I can find a legitimate excuse. Fortunately, Victor happens to be a psychopath who needs to be eliminated anyway." Glancing briefly at the tactical data she fed him from her own displays, he angled the Raptor toward the new-model CGUE.

"You two hurt each other, didn't you?" Sophia asked softly.

"Yes," he replied, almost in a whisper. "In fact, I thought I killed him... now it's time to finish the job..."

Memories filled his head. _The blade cut across Falcon's left eye, and the commander dropped back a pace, hand instinctively going to cover the wound. Tempest pressed the attack, but Falcon forced his muscles to obey; his left hand returned to the katana's hilt, and he parried the stroke._

"Now you leave me no choice, Victor," he hissed, using all his mental discipline to block the pain from his wounded face. "You'll die for this."

"I don't think so, Falcon." Tempest spun, using the rotation of his body to add power to his next strike; it was, however, his undoing, and nearly his death. His commander ducked to the side, and before he could recover, Falcon swept his blade up, cutting across Tempest's right eye, and dropping down to cut off the last two fingers of his left hand...

"I'll leave him to you, then," Sophia murmured. "I'm sure you'll want-"

"No," Falcon interrupted. "I want him dead, but I learned my lesson about personal vendettas in our last encounter. He has to die, but it doesn't have to be my hand that does it. If you see a shot, take it; just make sure he goes down hard."

"Got it, Falcon." Her brother's response had reassured her in some ways; she wasn't sure the perfect soldier Metzinger had sough would have shown such a reaction. From what she could tell, his ideal would have been a man who could -and would insist on- doing everything himself. _Maybe there's hope yet..._

"Remember," Falcon murmured, "our objective is to protect the _Archangel;_ even ridding ourselves of Tempest is a lower priority."

"Understood." _Yep, he sounds a little more human now; sure, some might put that down to his keeping the big picture in mind, but _I_ think it's just that he's taken a liking to the ship... assuming, of course, that he's capable of taking a liking to _anything.

"Hmm..." The pilot glanced at his radar display. "It appears we have the Duel closing, as well; no doubt in search of Kira, if I knew Yzak Joule. He won't take kindly to what our young friend did to him last time." He keyed his radio. "Kira, watch out; I think the Duel is looking for you."

"I see him," Kira replied. "I'll try and keep him busy."

"Good. Stay frosty, kid." Falcon switched frequencies. "Hello, Yzak. Out for blood?"

"Don't get in my way, DiFalco!" Yzak snapped back. "If you do, I'll..."

"Empty threat," the ace said calmly. "You're letting your anger get the better of you again, just as you did in training." He snapped off a quick shot, not really expecting it to connect.

It didn't. Even burdened with new equipment -Falcon identified it as a development of the assault shroud, a set of optional armor originally developed for GINNs- Duel was able to dodge to one side... which just happened to take it past Raptor and toward Strike.

"Bastard!" Yzak hissed as he passed.

"In the technical sense, you're correct," Falcon replied coolly. "My father was a test tube, my mother a mechanical egg. But that is neither here nor there. I think you should remember your last encounter with the Strike, Yzak, and consider the fact that this time, you may not escape with your life."

"Shut up!"

Suddenly, another voice broke into the transmission. "Why are you wasting time on that impetuous kid, Falcon?" Huckebein demanded. "It's _me_ you want, isn't it?"

"As a matter of fact, I'd like your head on a pole," Falcon said, eye narrowed. "Failing that, I'll settle for turning you to space dust. However, your comment puzzles me: why should you call Yzak Joule a kid, when he is in fact slightly older than you are?"

"He doesn't have my battle experience," Tempest said dismissively. "Which is another reason you should fight me: wouldn't he be too easy for you? Don't you want a challenge, like in the old days, facing Mu La Flaga's Moebius Zero corps?"

"I'm not looking for a challenge, Victor; as you continue to forget -or ignore- my mission is nothing more and nothing less than the defense of the PLANTs. I don't choose my targets on the basis of how good they are." Raptor's targeting scope extended and came out before Falcon's eye. "You'll be disappointed, I'm sure, to learn that I want to kill you not for revenge, but because you are a threat to what I'm trying to achieve. Nothing more, and nothing less."

"Falcon..." Sophia said softly.

"I know. Enough talk; fire at will."

It was the command she had been waiting for; her own targeting scope slid into place, and she twitched the angle on the -slightly- mobile cannons mounted on the Aile pack. _Try this on for size, Raven!_

Huckebein, of course, had been expecting the attack, and dropped below the attack; his newly-repaired DEEP Arms was more than up to the task. "That the best you can do?" he mocked, drawing his -replacement- laser sword. "I'm out for blood, Falcon, and if you aren't you're just going to die here."

"It's not my time, Victor." Falcon deployed his Death Blossoms, using his targeting scope and his own innate sense of spatial awareness to direct them toward their targets. "Not while GENESIS still poses a threat to the world; and if I have to go through you, Dearka, and every other man in ZAFT to stop it... I won't hesitate."

"Pretty words," Huckebein sneered. "Can you back them up?"

The beam rifle went down to the hardpoint on Raptor's right leg, and frozen fire ignited from its hand as it drew Falcon's preferred weapon: the beam saber. "Do you honestly believe that the apprentice can ever defeat the master?" he asked softly.

"I surpassed the master long ago, 'Commander'," his former pupil replied. "Care to tango?"

_You're being very chatty, Mr. Raven,_ Sophia thought, frowning._ Why...? Oh, sh-_ Looking up from her targeting systems, she called out a warning. "Falcon, two of the GINNs are-!"

The Death Blossoms spiraled out as though controlled by Falcon's very thoughts; swirling around to target two different machines from four different angles. "Rest in peace," he whispered, and fired.

Huckebein made a sound of disgust, watching the GINNs fall away, gun hands and heads gone. "I don't know what disgusts me more, Falcon," he said, shaking his head. "Their incompetent attempts at sneaking up on you, or your insistence on leaving your enemies alive."

"Are they my enemies?" Falcon shook his own head. "I don't think they are, Victor. They're just dupes, buying Patrick's words hook, line, and sinker. _You,_ on the other hand, are simply a psychopath... who happens to be in my way. That makes _you_ my enemy."

"You know, you're as friendly as always, Falcon," Huckebein muttered. "Enough; now die!"

Two blades of pure energy clashed; Raven and Falcon went for each other's throats once again.

* * *

Kira, forewarned by Falcon, was not surprised to see the Duel coming straight at him. Its appearance, on the other hand, gave him pause. "It's been upgraded," he whispered, seeing the extra armor, railgun, and missile pod. "This could be bad..." 

"There you are, you coward," Yzak said with a savage smile. "I've been waiting for you, Strike; it's about time you finally showed yourself. This time, you're going down!"

There was no further preamble; this time, both pilots were out for blood, and they instantly exchanged shots, darts of green death arcing across space toward each other, to be blocked or dodged by the dueling pilots.

Kira cursed, ducked a railgun shot, and boosted around to the far side of a wrecked _Drake_-class, using it for a moment's cover. _This guy's nuts,_ he thought, catching his breath. _Falcon's right; his temper is his weakness._ Exactly how he was going to _exploit_ that weakness, he wasn't sure.

Yzak smirked. "You think that'll help you, Strike? Think again!" He triggered a barrage of missiles, annihilating the wreckage and leaving the Strike exposed once again. "You're not getting away _that_ easy!"

_The rifle isn't going to do much good,_ Kira thought to himself._ We both have shields, and we know how to use them. I'll have a better chance with the saber._ Acting on that decision, he set aside his rifle, and drew one of his close-combat weapons. "I won't be defeated here!"

"Two can play at that game," Yzak muttered. He put away his own long-arm, and ignited a saber. "You're dead, Strike!"

_I won't let you!_ Strike's saber swung down, to be parried by Duel's weapon. "Just get out of the way, Duel!" Kira shouted, lashing out again and again.

Kira's sheer skill was matched by Yzak's one advantage: experience. Having actually been _trained_ mobile suit combat -in part by Falcon- he was -barely- able to keep up with the flurry of strikes. "A Natural can't hope to defeat _me!"_

_Just a few more minutes..._ Kira thought, deflecting another of the Duel's powerful blows. _Then_ Archangel_ will be out of their range, and we can relax..._

He spared a moment's attention for another duel taking place in that crowded section of orbit, between a machine remarkably similar to his own, and a ZAFT machine that might actually stand a chance against a Gundam. _Be careful, Falcon; you and I are the _Archangel_'s best hope..._

* * *

"You know, Falcon," Sophia said through gritted teeth, firing a shot from Raptor's shoulder-mounted Gatling, "I could really get to hate this guy. I can't get a clear shot!" 

"Patience; Victor isn't infallible. Besides, the pupil cannot hope to outshine the master." Falcon's voice was completely calm, as if he did this every day; but his sister wasn't buying it.

_He may be used to being outnumbered,_ she thought,_ what with Endymion and Jachin Due, but he _can't_ be used to facing this many mobile _suits_ at once!_

Not that it appeared to matter. Every so often, another of the ZAFT GINNs would come to interfere with the clash between G-weapon and CGUE, but each time, Falcon used the Death Blossoms to disable or drive them off, without ever appearing to divert any attention at all from Tempest's CGUE.

Now, uttering his trademark hunting call, Falcon swept his blade of scarlet fire around in a figure eight pattern, which Huckebein was hard-pressed to counter.

Counter it he did, though. "You're more of a challenge than I thought, Commander," Huckebein grunted. "But it's only a matter of time."

"One difference between us, Victor," Falcon replied. "In that time, _you_ need to win this fight; _I_ just have to keep from losing it too soon."

"Is that a fact?" This time, the words came not from Tempest, but from another pilot, who attempted to bring his GINN's sword down on Raptor's head. "Die, traitor!"

Falcon didn't miss a beat. He reversed thrust, shoving Raptor backwards and thus forcing the GINN to overshoot; and, not content with letting him go free, he fired the Panzer Eisen, grabbing hold of the interloper. "Leave, before you perish," he told the unlucky pilot, and threw him at the CGUE... just as Huckebein was slashing down with his sword.

The resurrected pilot snarled as his blade, instead of cleaving his former commander in half as intended, cut through the GINN, just barely missing the cockpit. "You always were clever, Falcon," he granted. "I should have known you wouldn't risk yourself in a fair fight!"

"There's no such thing as a fair fight."

"Lesson Thirty-four, right?" Huckebein snorted. "The one who fights fair is the one who dies?"

"Exactly." _I don't have time for this,_ Falcon thought, watching the numbers count down on his time display. "Sophia," he called over his shoulder, muting the radio, "when I give the signal, fire the cannons."

As targeting and maneuvering information scrolled onto her screen, Sophia smiled and nodded. "Got it, Falcon; ready when you are."

Huckebein, taking Raptor's momentary inaction for indecision, attacked, swinging his laser sword while simultaneously raising his shoulder-mounted cannons to firing position. "Game over, Falcon!" he shouted... just as Raptor finally moved.

Its left hand swept up to take hold of and ignite its other blade, while the machine's verniers kicked it sideways. Coming around in a circle behind the CGUE, Raptor's right-hand blade sliced down, through its legs, while the left arced up through the DEEP Arms' weapon hand.

Even as Falcon's blows dismembered Tempest's machine, Sophia acted, without waiting for the signal, triggered the energy cannons on Raptor's back. Their streams of concentrated energy tore through Huckebein's cannons, leaving the machine weaponless... and Falcon wasn't quite done yet.

The Death Blossoms spiraled in, their arcing blasts of green death impacting on the CGUE's left arm, right shoulder, head, and lower torso, blasting it into a hulk, while Huckebein shouted in fury. _"Falcon!"_

To make his rage complete, Raptor turned and boosted away, as though he were no longer of any consequence; no longer worthy of being shot at.

"You sure you don't want to finish him off?" Sophia asked quietly.

Falcon slowly shook his head. "In the long run, it might be better; but I don't want to take the time here. It's enough that's he's disabled, for now." He let out a slow, shuddering breath. "We may survive this yet. By the way, what's the status of the _Menelaos?"_

Sophia frowned, checking her displays. "It doesn't look good," she said after a moment. "They launched the shuttle with the refugees a few minutes ago; now- Holy! Falcon, the _Gamow_'s-!"

His gaze snapped up, and his went narrow as he saw the _Laurasia_-class force its way into the heart of the Eighth Fleet's formation. "Zelman, you idiot..." he whispered. "You know your ship will never make it..."

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"What's the _Gamow_ doing, Ades?" Le Creuset demanded. "He's going well beyond what my orders stated." 

"I see it, Commander." Frowning, Ades opened a channel to the _Gamow._ "Zelman, just what do you think you're doing? You're going too far into the enemy formation!"

_"I don't care!"_ Zelman replied angrily._ "I know we'll never make it; but Halberton was the one who started the G-weapon project. If we can rid the world of him, the PLANTs will be better off; so that's exactly what we're going to do!"_

His image winked out, and Le Creuset sighed. "Zelman's a brave man... Pity it's getting him killed." He shook his head. "What's the status of the legged ship?"

"Undamaged, Commander," Ades told him. "I think it's going to get away, sir."

"Yes, I suspect you're right. And so, unfortunately, is Commander DiFalco..."

_Yes,_ Le Creuset thought,_ even if he has to go through atmospheric reentry in that mobile suit, Falcon will survive. If Endymion couldn't get him, nothing will..._

* * *

Earth Orbit

* * *

It was a day for heroes... and unexpected happenings. 

The _Gamow_ plunged in toward the _Menelaos,_ guns blazing, taking even more damage than it was dishing out. Atmosphere bled into space through the numerous hull breaches, but still Zelman drove on, determined to destroy Lewis Halberton, even if he had to ram his ship in the Earth Forces vessel himself.

Mu, who had, heretofore, been engaged in a fruitless battle with the Buster, now turned to look at the engagement between the two capital ships. "No..." he whispered. "I won't let you!" The thought of allowing such a thing to happen now, when Halberton's fleet had given so much already, was just too much... and something happened.

A blue seed burst behind the Hawk of Endymion's eyes.

Dearka's eyes went wide when the Moebius Zero suddenly swung around in a maneuver he wouldn't have thought it capable of, while at the same time deploying its wired gunbarrels for one final attack on his Buster. They couldn't do any harm to the machine itself... but they _could_ -and did- blow away both his guns and his open missile pods.

"What the...?" he whispered, watching the mobile armor soar away toward the _Gamow._ "How did he...?" He was so astonished it didn't occur to him to be irritated that, once again, he'd been completely disarmed.

"Not a chance!" Mu shouted, his gunbarrels spiraling out to engage the _Laurasia,_ his linear gun spitting shot after shot at the ZAFT vessel.

Kilometers away, Sophia watched the Hawk's actions in awe. "Falcon," she whispered, "that's incredible... How is he _doing_ that?"

"I think you know as well as I," Falcon replied quietly, though he was pretty impressed himself. _He, like Kira, is a bearer of the SEED..._ "However," he went on, "even with those skills, a Zero cannot by itself defeat a _Laurasia_-class. Mu's attack is valiant... but in vain."

Even as he spoke, Mu cursed to himself, and broke off his attack. He'd have continued, but he was not unaware of the time constraints, and expected a recall order from the _Archangel_ at any moment. "You'll pay for this," he whispered. "I won't let you get away with it..."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"No, Admiral," Murrue whispered, not even realizing she was speaking aloud. "No, not like this is, it can't end like this..." 

On the screen, _Menelaos'_ furious defense finally succeeded in tearing _Gamow_ apart, but it was too late for the gallant ship. Where enemy fire had failed, the intense heat and stress of atmospheric reentry succeeded. The _Agamemnon_-class flagship of the Earth Alliance Forces Eighth Fleet came apart a mere twenty seconds after her killer, spewing debris everywhere.

_Admiral..._ Murrue thought, saluting as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Natarle likewise saluted the departed Admiral Halberton. _If only we'd launched our units sooner,_ she thought, berating herself. _I should have thought of it even before Commander DiFalco did... but we were all too late._

"Two minutes to atmospheric reentry!" Neumann called out. "We're almost at Phase Three!"

Mir didn't wait for orders; she already knew what they would be. "All units, return to the ship at once! Repeat, Raptor, Strike, Zero, return to the _Archangel_ immediately! We're beginning reentry in under two minutes!"

* * *

Earth Orbit

* * *

Mu cursed again. "Blast! That's as long as I can stay out here..." He spun his Zero on its axis and shot back toward the _Archangel,_ feeling bitter at his failure... and puzzled by the strange change that his mental processes had undergone. 

"Falcon...?" Sophia questioned, noticing her brother made no move to return to the ship. "Shouldn't we be...?"

Falcon shook his head. "No time. By the time we get back to _Archangel,_ she'll already have released the ablative gel; there won't be time for us to get aboard. Same for Kira, I suspect."

"So now what?" She swallowed nervously, recalling the number of inventions that had worked so well in the lab, only to fail when it counted in the field. "Can Raptor really...?"

"One way to find out." He angled the mobile suit down toward _Archangel_'s reentry vector, presenting the narrowest possible profile in order to reduce drag, and thus friction. "The bad news," he said calmly, "is that I've never attempted atmospheric reentry before, let alone in a mobile suit."

"Is there any good news?" Sophia demanded.

"Yes." Falcon glanced over his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure I can pull us out of this dive before we become a pile of squished debris and guts on the ground."

She swallowed again. _"That's_ comforting."

* * *

Kira turned his head to see the _Archangel_'s outer hull begin to gleam as the ablative gel discharged to cover it; his feelings on the matter were mixed. 

_At least they're safe,_ part of him thought, relieved.The other part, on the other hand, was much more cynical._ Of course, now I'm gonna have to see if the specs are right about reentry... after I get the Duel to go away._

Despite the fact that he, too, was now committed to reentry, Yzak refused to break off his attack. If anything, the implacable grip of gravity made him even angry. "This is all _your_ fault, Strike!" he shouted. "First you humiliate me, scar me, and now you force me to land on a planet full of _Naturals!"_

Their blades of frozen scarlet fire clashed once again, but this time Kira was in no mood to let the confrontation continue. "Just back _off!"_ he shouted, and, after using his shield to repel Duel's weapon, body-slammed the ZAFT machine. "I don't have time for you!" He followed up with a kick to the head, and used the equal -and opposite- reaction to give himself added momentum away from the persistent nuisance.

Yzak snarled in rage in frustration as the Strike flew away from him; but he wasn't out of options yet. "You're finished!" he said through gritted teeth, and resorted to his beam rifle one more time. His targeting scanner extended before his eyes, and he waited patiently for the targeting circles to join together in a perfect lock.

"Oh, no," Kira whispered; he was not overly concerned, given the distance, but he wished the Duel's pilot would just admit defeat and leave him alone. "Why do you keep fighting...?" He waited for the green darts of death to arc across the ever-thickening atmosphere toward him, preparing to block... and things got suddenly, immeasurably worse.

The shuttle from the _Menelaos,_ the one with the refugees Kira had fought so hard and long to protect, got between Yzak Joule and his target.

Instantly, Kira boosted toward it, trying to get out from its shadow before the Duel fired. _No! It can't happen! Not like this..._

Yzak saw the shuttle, indeed; but he couldn't care less. _Must be some Natural soldiers turning coward and running away,_ he thought contemptuously. _Well, that shuttle isn't enough of an obstacle to stop the beam from reaching the Strike._

He pulled the trigger.

Kira's eyes went wide and horrified as the blast engulfed the ship of fleeing civilians, just before he could get clear. He got far enough to avoid being hit himself... but to the refugees, it was meaningless. _"Nooooo!"_ he cried in anguish, and fell toward Earth...

* * *

Author's note: Halberton's Eighth Fleet is gone, and _Archangel_ has begun her descent to Earth. Meanwhile, Sophia has revealed a startling secret; how will this affect her interaction with her brother? 

So now it begins; I've already made on substantive change here, as you've doubtless noted. In the series, after all, Mu was not a bearer of the SEED. This will hardly be the last change that I make; I daresay this will diverge more than Brothers in Arms did.

Infinite Freedom, I'm not sure exactly what you mean by "the same thing Kevin did"; I can't think of any specific incident in Chapter 9 of Brothers in Arms that might pertain to this, unless you mean him keeping one of the enemy machines busy.

Falcon will get the Preybird a little before Kira arrives on the scene with the Freedom, though they'll be deployed at approximately the same time; beyond that, I can't give any specifics without spoiling a couple of scenes I'm looking forward to.

Thanks for the suggestion regarding the twin satellite cannon, by the way; by modifying the design slightly -to accommodate Preybird's wings- and swapping out the plasma cannons, I think it would work quite nicely. In fact, it's given me several other ideas for various battles… such as the Second Battle of Jachin Due. I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions from there.

Finally, as for your speculation about Falcon's pairing… do you really expect me to say one way or the other at this point? It would be very unlike me to give any details before the proper moment.

Ninofchaos, let's just say that Flay's manipulation of Kira won't be _quite_ as effective this time around…

Ominae, glad you liked that twist; imagine the latest one -regarding Sophia- was just as much of a surprise.

Now, when it comes to Falcon's appearance -and his eye- the _Archangel_'s crew will learn the truth at the proper time; I have, as usual, quite the elaborate sequence planned. More than one, in fact.

Warp Ligia Obscura, the reason for Kevin's scream in Chapter 21 is simple: can you imagine what the Zero System must have been doing to his mind when it malfunctioned? I know _I_ wouldn't want to go through that.

Actually, you wouldn't be spoiling anything Mu; while I haven't seen any of Destiny yet, I _have_ been keeping a close eye on it; mostly so that I know beforehand who dies, so I can watch the series without constantly wondering about that. So yeah, I know exactly what you're talking about… and, as usual, I have plans of my own involving it for A Call to Arms.

Don't rule out the notion of a Solidus just yet; I haven't gotten all the details down yet, but Kevin's past will be in the spotlight once again in A Call to Arms; in some ways even more than in his first story. His origins with the Ultimate Coordinator Project, his involvement in Project ABADDON (yes, that _is_ the correct spelling; I only recently learned myself that I'd gotten it wrong originally) and even, to a certain extent, the Serpent Head Project that produced Jack Carter and most of the other clones.

Anyway, I hope the story continues to satisfy you; and, as I said, there are more twists to come…

NukeDawg, Falcon's a little subtler than Kevin; he generally doesn't resort to death threats. Besides, he's confident enough in his piloting skill that, while he'd appreciate Kira's assistance, he wouldn't be absolutely relying on it, the way Kevin might (given that at that point in Brothers in Arms, Kevin is still having problems with his piloting).

I will, as always, be looking forward to your next update; though I think I've guessed the identities of the pilot of this new machine, I haven't the slightest notion how "she" came to exist in the first place. No doubt the explanation will be… interesting.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, mow you know how the battle went; I hope you liked it. Obviously, from here on out Sophia will be playing a larger role in battles, so they'll be just a little different from what you might be used to…

Shinji Ikari, good to hear from you; the notes have been a bit boring of late, comparatively. Now, as to your remarks: it's a good point, but I think you should take it up with the series' writers, instead. Now, I honestly don't remember exactly what the contact reports said -I'll have to check; been meaning to since I got your review, but I haven't gotten around to it yet- but there are a couple of points I can make. First of all, given that Le Creuset's attack on the Eighth Fleet was a target of a opportunity, I don't really think he _could_ bring in more forces in such a short time. More importantly, however, is this: if you look -and have access to the DVDs- you'll notice that all the shots of more than three ships are stock footage from the very first prologue, back in Phase 1; all the close-ups, on the other hand, show only those three ships. This kind of error actually isn't that uncommon in SEED; they use stock footage all the time, so I suppose they didn't realize they should have edited out the extra ships. Besides those reused shots, I've seen no indication that more than three ships are involved. Besides, you've seen what even GINNs are capable of; with fourteen mobile suits for support, four of them G-weapons, I can easily see them taking out the Fleet like that. That is, after all, why Halberton proposed the G-weapon project in the first place: the Earth Forces were getting slaughtered. In my mind, the Eighth Fleet battle is just one more example.

Anyway, I hope that clears things up; and if you see any other places where you think I've made errors let me know; even I'll admit that I'm not _always_ right, after all. (Like a certain case of Lacus being out of character in Brothers in Arms, for example; oops.)

Rau Le Creuset 88, thanks for reviewing; I hope the story continues to please. (And if you like the Raptor and its Death Blossoms, I imagine you'll approve of the Preybird, when it finally makes its appearance.)

Centurious, glad to see you're still reading and enjoying; I'll try to have the next chapter up before too long. No choice, really, given that within just three or four months, I'll have to direct my energies back at Kevin Walker's saga.

Whew; another hour spent on author's notes. I forgot that the more popular a story gets, the more time I spend on these things… Oh, well, at least it tends to be interesting. -Solid Shark


	12. Chapter 12: The Lonely Desert

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Earth Orbit, Atmospheric Reentry

* * *

It was getting just a little warm in the Raptor's cockpit. 

"Is it just me," Sophia muttered, glaring at her display, "or is it getting just a little too warm in here?"

"It's not just you," Falcon replied absently, twitching the machine's course. "As a matter of fact, if the temperature continues to rise at this rate, it will be too hot for a Natural to survive in under two minutes."

She winced. "That's comforting. You do realize that _I'm_ a Natural, don't you? Which means, unless we figure something out, I'll, uh..."

"The thought had crossed my mind," he said calmly. "You designed this thing; got any bright ideas on how to keep us from being burnt to a crisp?"

"I'm working on it," Sophia snapped back. "Well, first of all, it has better cooling systems than the Strike; and if we can augment them from spare energy not being used elsewhere..."

"Dump all weapon power into cooling," Falcon suggested. "Same for enemy detection and fire control; we won't be needing them just now." He thought for a moment. "Cut off cockpit pressurization; oxygen, in the time involved, will only become a problem if it ignites."

"You know, you're just a fount of optimism, you know that?" Nonetheless, she did as her brother suggested. "You've done this kind of thing before?"

He shook his head. "No; but Sparky mentioned he did something similar at Endymion, when the Cyclops went off." His eye roved over the displays, his hands making occasional, minute changes to their descent angle. "You do your job, and I'll get us down in one piece, Kestrel."

"Right..."

One of the Raptor's radio monitors suddenly lit with Miriallia's face. _"Falcon!"_ she called. _"Are you two all right?"_

"For now," Falcon responded; his sister was too busy. "If we can keep the cooling systems working, we'll make it; I've never flown a mobile suit from orbit to ground before, but I think I can handle it." He tilted his head. "Where's the Strike?"

Her face became drawn. _"Close by; but we can't get any response from him, and his descent angle differs from the _Archangel_'s. Since the Strike's thrusters weren't meant for reentry orbit corrections, they don't have the power to reach us... Wait a second."_

Mir turned away, apparently listening to something on the Bridge, and Falcon turned his attention back to keeping himself and his sister alive.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"The Strike's descent angle differs from the ship," Natarle reported, echoing what Mir had just told Falcon. "We're still heading for Alaska, but he isn't." 

"Tell him to move closer," Murrue ordered.

The combat commander shook her head. "We can't get a response from him, Ma'am; and even if we could, the Strike's thrusters aren't powerful enough to overcome his inertia."

The Captain cursed. _Without Kira and the Strike, we've no chance at all, even with Falcon and Sophia... and _their_ survival is less than certain right now._ She thought furiously. _Either we make it to Alaska, and lose the Strike... or change course to rendezvous with Kira, and miss Alaska..._

There wasn't any real choice, of course. "Change course," she ordered. "Get us closer to the Strike!"

"But Captain," Neumann protested, "then the _Archangel_ will also miss her descent point!"

"We don't have a choice; if we lose the Strike, every sacrifice made to get us here will have been for nothing."

_"Concur,"_ Falcon said over the radio._ "More importantly, Lesson Seven: Leave no one behind. Never abandon your own."_ His eye was very intense._ "And with Kira's help, we have at least twice as great a chance of reaching Alaska once we ground."_ On the monitor, his gaze went to Neumann._ "Any other objections, Chief?"_

Faced with two irritated superior officers, Neumann did not hesitate any longer. Instead, he obediently guided _Archangel_ toward Strike's course, neatly slipping beneath the wayward mobile suit.

Clearly, Kira was at least partially conscious; the Strike, seeing the ship come beneath it, flipped end for end, first using its shield to fend off some of the atmospheric friction, then flipping again to land on its feet in a kneeling position on the _Archangel_'s rear deck.

"The Strike has landed on the ship," Chandra reported, relief evident in his voice.

Murrue slumped in her chair. "Good." She looked up at Falcon's image. "Falcon, what about you? Can Raptor make the necessary course changes?"

He glanced over his shoulder at the furiously-typing Victorian Kestrel. _"According to Sophia, we can; apparently, the Death Blossoms' thrusters can give us an added boost, just enough to get us on course. Better be ready to pick us afterwards, though, because after that we'll have just one more good boost left; just enough to slow us down to a -relatively- safe landing... I hope."_

_He's just a fount of optimism today,_ Murrue thought, unconsciously echoing her friend's earlier words. "All right; we'll try to land as close to you as possible, for immediate pickup... wherever it is that we're going."

_"Gracias,"_ Falcon replied._ "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be a little busy for the next few minutes..."_

* * *

Sky Above Libyan Desert, African Community

* * *

"Must go slower," Falcon muttered to himself, wrestling with his flight controls. "Must go slower." 

Sophia glanced up from her own efforts. "What was that, Falcon?"

"Nothing." It would take too long to explain; and besides, he wasn't sure how she'd react to the notion of him paraphrasing the words of a mathematician being chased by a Tyrannosaurus Rex. _She knows I'm an old movie buff -or was, at least- but another crack like that and I might break my cover..._

Falcon shook himself. There was no time for such thoughts, not when he had the ground rushing up at him at far too many meters per seconds for comfort. _Get out of this alive, _then_ laugh yourself silly._

"Coming up on retro burn, Falcon," Sophia warned. "You're only gonna have one burst of thrust before we lose power, so make it count."

"Roger." Had this been a space maneuver of some kind, he might have been annoyed by her warning; in atmosphere, however, he was well aware that she had the edge in knowledge and experience. "Begin countdown to retro burn."

"Copy that. Thirty seconds to braking maneuver." The Kestrel began counting under her breath, keeping a close eye on the timer display on his gunnery console. "Fifteen... ten... five... four... three... two... one... Now!"

Falcon reacted instantly, diverting energy from the now-unnecessary cooling systems to the main thrusters, while shunting the rest into the Death Blossoms and simultaneously shoving the vernier control peddle to the cockpit deck. "Full reverse thrust," he grunted, G forces forcing him into the seat of his chair. "Ten seconds to touchdown."

Sophia grunted an acknowledgment. She wasn't quite as uncomfortable as her brother -he experienced G forces during tight maneuvers in space, but it wasn't as bad as what she'd routinely endured in the cockpit of a fighter. On the other hand, _neither_ of them had ever experienced what happened next.

Though slowed sufficiently to avoid hitting at lethal velocities, Raptor still impacted upon the desert sand at high velocity, knocking the wind out of them and nearly knocking them unconscious.

"Oh, my aching... argh..." Sophia shook her head, trying to clear it. "Falcon," she said, slowly, painfully, "I never, ever wanna try that again..."

"Agreed..." Falcon had been through some tough scrapes before, but the only one he could think of that surpassed this was the conclusion of the Battle of Endymion, and he hadn't even been conscious for that. "I wholeheartedly concur..."

He hadn't even realized that _Archangel_ had also touched down until Mir's face appeared on his screen. _"Falcon?"_ she called. _"You there?"_

The pilot wearily raised his head. "Yeah, Miriallia, I'm here; and I think we're even both alive, though I'm not entirely sure about that yet..."

She blinked, unsure if he was actually cracking a joke. _"Uh... right... Anyway, Falcon, your signal's strong, but for some reason we don't have a visual on you. Can you tell why?"_

Falcon raised his eyebrows, puzzled, but Sophia had the answer. "That, Crewman," she replied, "would be because our 'soft' landing took us right into a sand dune. Better tell Murdoch he'll need to dig us out."

_"Already on the way, Ma'am."_ Mir hesitated._ "Uh, it might be a good idea if you hurried, Falcon; we still haven't gotten a response from Kira, and since you're in the best position to know about Coordinator medical care..."_

"Understood," Falcon replied. "As soon as they did us out, I'll be there. Infirmary, or is he still in the cockpit?"

"He's still in the cockpit, but he'll probably be in the Infirmary by the time you get aboard."

"Roger that."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Newly-promoted Chief Petty Officer Kojiro Murdoch shook his head, staring at the sand-covered mobile suit his people had just brought back aboard. "Man," he muttered. "It's gettin' sand all over the deck, and it'll take hours to clean the joints out... what I wouldn't give for that thing to have a scale system..." 

The hatch popped open, and Falcon and Sophia swiftly descended to the deck, looking weary; something the mechanic had never seen before in the one-eyed pilot.

What surprised Murdoch even more, given their well-known enmity of late, was when Falcon turned to his sister and actually stuck out his hand. "You did good up there, sis," he said quietly. "I think I can honestly say it was good to fly with you."

Sophia blinked in surprise fully as great as that of the onlookers, then smiled. "So you'd pick me for you team, if you were rebuilding it?"

"No," he said instantly; but the faintest trace of amusement appeared on his face. "But that's because you're a mobile _armor_ pilot, and the Gray Demons flew mobile _suits."_

She took the hand. "Thanks, Falcon."

"Don't thank me; it was your skills." Falcon pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his brown hair. "I'd better get going; if Kira's in bad shape, so are we."

The two went their separate ways, while Murdoch exchanged an incredulous glance with his people. "Did we just see that?" he asked of no one in particular.

"Apparently, you did," Mu said, coming up behind him. "Don't ask me; I don't understand it either. Maybe it's because she turned out to be a pilot -an ace, even- and Falcon respects that. Who knows." He scratched his head. "But speaking of who knows what, I need to go see Falcon; something we need to talk about."

He left, and the mechanics glanced at each other, just as puzzled as ever.

"Alright," Murdoch said finally, "back to work, you grease monkeys; at least machines are predictable, huh?"

There was a general murmur of agreement with the sentiment... and the sentiment that all pilots were completely and totally out of their minds.

* * *

_Archangel, _Infirmary

* * *

They'd gotten Kira out of his flightsuit, and he lay unconscious on one of the Infirmary beds when Falcon entered; the only other person was present was the ship's doctor, who had refused entrance to anyone else until it was determined exactly what was wrong with the pilot. 

"Ah, Commander," Doctor Calvin Hibson greeted. "I'm glad you came so quickly."

"He's a pilot in need, and a friend," Falcon said simply. "I'll do what I can, Doc."

Hibson handed him a clipboard holding the requisite medical information. "Here's what we have so far," he said. "Elevated temperature, high fever, a few other problems that I _think_ are minor, but with a Coordinator I'm not sure..."

Falcon quickly flipped through the data, occasionally nodding to himself. "You're aware that Coordinators don't get fatal infections, correct?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes; though I wasn't entirely sure, since I've never before examined a Coordinator."

"It's true," the pilot confirmed absently. "Fortunately; I caught the Plague a few years back, while on a visit to Earth."

Hibson winced. "Bubonic?"

"Worse. Pneumonic."

He flinched at that; pneumonic plague had a higher fatality rate than even its cousin Bubonic, more commonly known as the Black Death. "Frankly, Commander, I'm glad I was not your physician at the time."

"Yeah, well, my doctor wasn't happy, either. Could be worse; one of my old teammates once got rabies, and didn't realize it in time for the vaccine." Falcon glanced up briefly. "As you're no doubt aware, unless you get the vaccine in time, rabies is guaranteed fatal for Naturals. No exceptions. As it was, Alicia was out of action for awhile." He set aside the clipboard. "I don't think you need to worry about Kira; he's got a high fever simply from reentry heat -which would have killed you, by the way; it was well beyond tolerances for a Natural- and the battle stress also seems to have contributed somewhat. All you can really do is give him plenty of liquids and try to bring his body temperature down."

Hibson nodded. "Thank you, Commander." He tilted his head. "Are _you_ all right? I gather you went through reentry in a mobile suit, as well..."

"I'm fine, Doc; Sophia's brainchild has somewhat better cooling systems than the Strike." The pilot rubbed his eyepatch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go change out of this flightsuit."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor

* * *

Falcon had barely changed back into uniform -standard Earth Forces white now, instead of the volunteer blue- and trench coat when Mu caught up with him in the corridor outside his quarters. "Hey, Falcon, you got a minute?" 

The one-eyed pilot looked at his older brother. "Sure, Mu. Something on your mind?"

"You could say that." Mu scratched his head. "You seem to be pretty experienced with unusual things happening in combat, so maybe you can explain something for me." He hesitated. "You, uh, remember when the _Gamow_ made her suicide run against the _Menelaos?_ And I went after her, thinking maybe I could somehow stop an escort ship all by myself?"

"Yeah," Falcon said, nodding. "I didn't think you could actually succeed, but I understood what you were trying to do. Why?"

"Because something happened to me out there." Mu paused, looking for the right words to describe it. "It was like... like my mind suddenly went really clear; and everything seemed almost... sluggish, like the world had gone into slow motion. I... I don't know what happened out there, but... I thought maybe...?"

His brother nodded again. "I know exactly what you're talking about, Mu." Falcon leaned against the bulkhead. "In ZAFT, they call it the Berserker state; the few pilots who possess it are among the most feared on the battlefield."

"Berserker state?" Mu frowned. "So, they don't actually know anything about how it works?"

"No, they don't." A twitch that might be called a smile. "But, as it happens, _I_ do." He closed his eye, thinking. "It's called the SEED Factor," he said slowly. "Superior Evolutionary Element Destined-Factor. It's a controversial theory, that suggests this theoretical SEED Factor is something possessed by a small number of individuals, which dictates the next phase of evolution. It's supposedly not affected by whether one is a Natural or a Coordinator; theoretically, either could possess the SEED. Some say the SEED is what produces the Berserker state."

The Hawk's eyes narrowed. "You said it's a controversial theory; which means that, as far as most scientists are concerned, it's unproven?" He received a nod, and his gaze narrowed even farther. "But you know more than they do, don't you?"

"It's not unproven, Mu," Falcon said simply. "Oh, perhaps not in the scientific sense where there is absolutely no way to deny the conclusion; but it's been proven to my satisfaction, and frankly, I think I'm in a better position to know than the egghead professor types who never set foot outside the lab or university. I've seen it before; and so have you, amigo."

Mu slowly nodded. "You mean Kira, don't you? That time, just before we reached the rendezvous with the Eighth Fleet."

"Yes."

He glanced at the Grimaldi Falcon sidelong. "You'd seen it even before that, though, hadn't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't know so much about it."

Falcon nodded calmly. "View the battle tapes of the Bloody Valentine sometime, Mu; maybe you'll spot what I'm talking about."

Before Mu could question him any further, Falcon began to leave, clearly indicating he wasn't inclined to discuss it any further. "Wait, Falcon," he called after him. "The Captain wants to see you."

The one-eyed pilot nodded wearily. "A soldier's job is never done, I suppose. I'm on my way."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Captain's Office

* * *

"Sorry to call you in so soon, Falcon," Murrue apologized when Falcon entered with Mu. "I know you must be tired; but we need to get a handle on the situation we find ourselves in." 

He nodded. "I understand; don't worry, I was worse off after the battles at L4, around Yggdrasil." He glanced at the wall map. "So, do we at least know where we are?"

Mu walked over to the map. "We do," he replied. "Unfortunately, it's just about the worst possible place right now. Alaska is over here, whereas _we-"_ he tapped another spot "-are here, in the Libyan desert. Right in the middle of ZAFT-controlled territory."

"And that location is why we need you," Murrue continued. "I understand that last year, after Jachin, you came through this region on a good-will tour?"

Falcon nodded. "Yeah; if memory serves, we're not too far from a town called Tassil; from what I heard later, there are a number of resistance groups operating out of there." He raised an eyebrow. "So, what does that have to do with me?"

"According to Alliance Intelligence," Mu said, "you did some cross-training in recon operations; is that right?"

"Yeah," the pilot admitted. "So?"

"We'd like you to take a look around the neighboring areas," Murrue answered. "Tassil in particular; possibly Banadiya, as well."

"Tassil, certainly. Banadiya, on the other hand, might not be a good idea."

It was Mu's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Falcon glanced at him. "It may have slipped your notice, but Andrew Waltfeld's headquarters are in Banadiya; and not only are my features distinctive, but the Desert Tiger and I have met before. Do you really want me to risk revealing _Archangel_'s presence like that?"

The Hawk grimaced. "Good point."

"Still," Murrue persisted, "just gathering intelligence from Tassil could be invaluable. Can you do it?"

Falcon shrugged. _Why not? I can always sleep through the next battle; not like there are many pilots who are a match for me anyway... or Kira, for that matter._ "Yeah, I think I can probably manage it. I'll leave as soon as I get some gear together."

She frowned. "Don't you want to get some rest first?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Murrue, this is war. I'm used to dealing with sleep deprivation. I'll sleep when there's peace again."

* * *

_Archangel, _Corridor

* * *

Newly-minted Crewman 2nd Class Flay Allster was heading down the ship's corridors toward the Infirmary, to visit Kira, when she caught sight of the one-eyed pilot. 

He appeared to be going about his own business, whatever it might have been, while taking no notice of her; but Flay tensed slightly anyway. _It's him..._ she thought. _That ZAFT pilot; the one who trained my father's murderer._ Disgust and hatred filled her at the sight of him... as well as a trace of apprehension. _I can use Kira for my revenge; but that bastard might ruin everything. He has too much influence over Kira; I'll have to be careful. If he notices anything, and tries to do something about it..._

She wondered if she might be able to... deal with the problem somehow. She hated the very sight of him -whatever he might claim, she didn't believe he'd truly left ZAFT, not after he stood by and let her father die- but she wasn't crazy enough to try attacking him directly. From the rumors she'd heard, the sword hidden under his trench coat was anything but for show, and she knew as well as anyone what Coordinators were capable of.

Still, the opportunity might someday arise; and if it did, Flay wouldn't hesitate to act on it.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

When Falcon stepped into the hangar -near the ship's jeeps- he was not, for the first time since coming aboard, wearing his eyepatch. Instead, he had on a pair of mirrored sunglasses, the better to disguise his identity, should he run into anyway familiar. 

Murdoch was there to meet him. "Okay, Commander, we got one of the jeeps outfitted for you," he said, indicating the vehicle in question. "Got a full tank, and some equipment Commander La Flaga thought you might need for... whatever it is you're up to."

Falcon nodded, examining the cargo. It wasn't much; mostly various portable detection equipment. "No guns," he commented.

The chief smirked. "Yeah, well, the Commander said you'd be liable to shoot your own foot off, so..."

"Hah," the pilot said tonelessly. "I said I didn't like guns; didn't say I didn't know how to use 'em. Still, I wouldn't want them anyway. Too noisy for a mission like this."

Murdoch tilted his head. "You, uh, _do_ know what a silencer is, don't you?"

"Suppressor," Falcon corrected. "It suppresses sound, it doesn't silence it, and no suppressor is perfect. Besides, this run isn't supposed to involve any rough stuff at all."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say no plan survives contact with the enemy."

"I know, Chief," he said, almost grimly. "I know. If they did, I wouldn't be here; I'd still be in the PLANTs, and you'd probably be trying to find a way to kill me."

Murdoch snorted. "Then here's to plans that don't survive contact with the enemy."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Infirmary

* * *

"So how is he, Doctor?" Sai asked. He, along with Mir, Tolle, and Kuzzey, were clustered by the Infirmary's hatch, while Flay kept watch over Kira. 

"He's gonna make it, right?" Mir said anxiously.

Hibson waved a hand. "Oh, don't worry so much. According to Commander DiFalco, he should recover quite nicely, and quickly. The heat from reentry dehydrated him, certainly, and gave him a high fever -not to mention knocking him unconscious- but to a Coordinator, it's not that big a deal. Not minor, certainly, but also not terribly life-threatening."

Tolle sighed in relief. "That's good to hear; I was really worried."

"So how hot _did_ it get in the Strike's cockpit?" Kuzzey wanted to know. "If it was hot enough to knock _Kira_ out..."

"I don't know exactly how warm it got," Hibson admitted, "since it had cooled significantly by the time anyone could get inside, but I can assure you no Natural could have survived it. Were it not for Commander DiFalco's piloting, and Lieutenant Commander DiFalco's ingenuity, I daresay we'd have been down an officer or two from Raptor's reentry." He smiled. "So no, you needn't worry too much about Ensign Yamato. For now, all we can really do is give him plenty of liquids, and try to lower his body temperature."

"Okay..." Tolle scratched his head. "But how _did_ Kira manage to survive? I mean, I know Coordinators have faster reflexes and all, but he doesn't look _that_ different from us..."

The doctor shook his head. "I know he _looks_ just like the rest of us, but looks can be deceiving. His internal capabilities are _completely_ different from ours. Being a Coordinator is more than merely thinking and learning faster; for example, he won't catch deadly diseases -Commander DiFalco informed me that he once had a case of pneumonic plague- so, while he may occasionally get sick, it would be more of a danger to us than to him. Oh, a bullet might do it, but certainly not this."

The _Archangel_'s copilot looked satisfied -mostly- by that response, as did his fellows... except for Mir, who turned to watch Flay with narrowed eyes. _Something isn't right here,_ she thought. _When he gets back, I'd better warn Falcon that I think Flay is up to something again..._

* * *

Tassil, African Community

* * *

Falcon had left his transportation beyond the small town's edge, and now he ghosted along, making use of half-remembered recon training. His gray trench coat helped; the notion that black was the best camouflage at night was a common misconception. It created essentially a moving part of the shadows, while gray blended with the darkness. If he was careful, he was practically invisible. 

He had little interest in the town itself; he knew resistance fighters lived there, but he doubted they were stupid enough to leave evidence of their presence in Tassil proper. No, Falcon was more interested in the cave system he remembered, just outside. It would make a perfect weapons cache for a canny guerrilla fighter.

Acting on these suspicions, the pilot slipped through the darkness to the mouth of one of the caves, and cautiously entered. _If I'm discovered at all, it will be once I'm inside,_ he thought. _It can't be helped, though; the resistance fighters may prove an asset to us... but there's little point in working with them unless they have the equipment to at least make a dent in the enemy._

Harsh, perhaps, but Falcon was a very pragmatic man; and he had long ago subordinated everything to his cause... including his life. _Of course,_ he thought to himself, _if I _do_ die in the pursuit of the plan, at least I will not have died in vain... and I think Kira could take my place, if he needed to._

The pilot shook his head, banishing such thoughts, and returned his full attention to his mission.

* * *

Even as the commando-pilot went about his recon mission, three people were approaching the cave; they all belonged to the resistance group known as the Desert Dawn. Foremost among them was Cagalli Yula, the girl Falcon had met years before, on the global networks; with her was Kisaka, her huge bodyguard, and a young man named Ahmed. 

None of them had any idea anyone was in the weapons cache until Ahmed noticed a faint flash of light within; though he could not know it, it was light from one of their own flashlights reflected off of Falcon's sunglasses. "Somebody's in there," he whispered.

Kisaka tensed. "You're sure?"

"Unless somebody left the lights on in there or something." Ahmed shook his head. "No, I think we've got an intruder." Typically, for a kid his age, he sounded excited by the prospect.

Cagalli frowned. "Let's check it out... carefully."

Kisaka considered telling her to stay back, but decided there was no point. He could try to protect her, but trying to keep her out of harm's way entirely was a futile endeavor. "Be careful, Cagalli," he warned.

"I know, Kisaka."

The three, following the footprints left in the sand, crept inside, expecting to see the intruder attack them at any moment. _Probably ZAFT,_ Cagalli thought. _Nobody else would be sneaking around like this... which means we can't let him leave._

Ahmed was the first to catch sight of the silhouette, and the assault rifle he carried snapped up to cover it. "Freeze!" he hissed.

The figure in the gray trench coat did exactly that, though his right hand seemed to be inside his coat. "Are you going to shoot me?" he asked softly.

Kisaka inhaled sharply. "You!"

The intruder didn't bother to turn. "Ledonir Kisaka, isn't it? It's been awhile."

Now Cagalli, too, recognized the voice. "You're Falcon," she whispered. "The one who got me that information... What are _you_ doing here?" She took a step forward.

"Careful, Cagalli," Kisaka warned once again. "He's not who you think he is. He's not just a hacker..."

"No," Falcon agreed. "Though you may be interested to know that I'm no longer ZAFT, either."

Cagalli turned to Kisaka. "ZAFT? What's going on here?"

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize me, Miss Yula," the pilot went on. "My face is well-known by now. Who hasn't heard of the Grimaldi Falcon?"

That did it. She angrily stalked toward him, ignoring Kisaka's wince. "You bastard!" she hissed, grabbing his shoulder. "You helped me get the information, but you were really just helping them destroy Heliopolis-"

Falcon turned. "Hardly," he said calmly. "As a matter of fact, within six hours of our meeting, I killed two GINN pilots, old comrades of mine. The ZAFT attack was not something I'd expected; and it did not fit with my plans at all. As I told you when you contacted me, I was merely helping out an old acquaintance." He reached out and lightly gripped her chin. "And remember: you owe me."

"He's probably telling the truth, Cagalli," Kisaka said unwillingly. "It's been known for months that the Grimaldi Falcon was MIA..."

Cagalli snorted, and angrily brushed Falcon's hand away. "If you betrayed your own comrades, then you're even worse than I thought." She stepped away... which just happened to clear Ahmed's field of fire.

The youth opened up with his rifle, expecting to thoroughly perforate the intruder, whoever he might be and whatever his actual intentions were. Falcon, however, had been expecting something of the sort, and his right hand swept out of his coat, katana gripped in his fingers.

The blade spun around, catching the bullets and sending them ricocheting throughout the cave; then, before Ahmed could recover from the shock, Falcon took several steps toward him, sliced off the barrel of his assault rifle, and pinned him to the wall with a hand on his neck.

"That wasn't very smart," he whispered, holding the blade's tip very close to Ahmed's throat. "I don't like guns; and I don't recall doing anything to provoke you shooting at me."

"Now you have," Cagalli snarled, raising her own sidearm. "Let him go, or I'll shoot!"

The one-eyed pilot shook his head. "Come now, Miss Yula; you don't actually expect that to work, do you? I can read the tiniest changes to your muscles' positions, and through that, I can tell where you're going to fire, and when." He abruptly released Ahmed, and sheathed his blade. "You know, don't you, that I only made a hostile move _after_ he tried to fill me full of holes."

Kisaka placed a hand on his charge's shoulder. "Put it away, Cagalli. Let's at least hear what he has to say first." He half-smiled. "And if we don't like it, we can always kill him afterward; I doubt he can handle more than one or two sources of fire at once."

Falcon raised an eyebrow. "You know a good deal more than I'd expect, Mr. Kisaka," he murmured. _Or should I say... "Colonel"? I don't what an Orb Army Airborne colonel is doing here, but don't think I've forgotten our last meeting..._

"So," the bodyguard began, "you were saying that you're no longer with ZAFT?"

A calm nod. "That's right. I deserted last September, following a... difference of opinion with Patrick, regarding the prosecution of the war against Earth. Suffice it to say that, following the Bloody Valentine, we had differing goals in this war. His is the destruction of all Naturals."

"And yours?" Cagalli challenged. The casual way the man called Zala by his first name made her even more suspicious. "You're going to tell me that wasn't _your_ goal, too? They say you're a patriot, and you expect us to believe you betrayed the PLANTs?"

He looked at her coldly. "I don't recall saying I'd betrayed the PLANTs, Miss Yula. I betrayed ZAFT, yes; a regrettable necessity, which may yet get me killed. But even now, my goal is the protection of the PLANTs, same as Patrick. Where we differ is how to accomplish that; he believes the only way we'll ever be safe is if we commit genocide, whereas _I_ hold that simply smashing the Earth Forces every time they attack until they realize it's futile is a better option."

Kisaka tilted his head. "So you're not just sitting around hoping that cooler heads will prevail?"

"Kisaka, I gave up 'hoping that cooler heads would prevail' the day I first flew in combat, during the blockade." Falcon rubbed the portion of his scar that could be seen beyond the sunglasses. "I'm afraid that I have little faith in the human race in general; so no, I'm not just going to sit by and content myself with wishful thinking. I have to act... and I may be the only one who can."

Cagalli snorted. "That's what I call ego. You really think you can end this war by yourself?"

"Not quite," he conceded. "But I have a better shot than anyone else... and I don't see anyone else trying to end it without genocide against one side or the other."

Kisaka gave him a speculative look. "They say that Secretary-General Olbani is working on a compromise plan..."

"Which will never be accepted by the Supreme Council." Falcon shook his head. "I've been out of touch a few months, Kisaka, but I stood in the shadows during too many Council meetings to believe otherwise. The current Council almost certainly wouldn't ratify it; and come April, I _know_ they won't." His fist clenched. "Patrick is almost certain to supplant Chairman Clyne in the next election, which will be an utter disaster."

Another snort from Cagalli. "This is all very interesting; but what _I'd_ like to know is what you're doing in one of our weapons' caches to begin with."

"I'm on a mission," he said simply. "Directly related to you, as a matter of fact, but the scope of my intentions are slightly broader than I think Murrue had in mind."

"'Murrue'?" Ahmed questioned.

"Captain Murrue Ramius, Earth Forces Eighth Fleet, commanding a certain mobile assault ship that you might be familiar with." Falcon looked straight at Cagalli. "Or have you forgotten about the _Archangel?"_

She inhaled sharply. "You've joined the Earth Forces? And that ship... is _here?"_

"Yes and yes," he replied. "Though I'm with the Earth Forces solely out of convenience; my plans will have a measurably greater chance of success under the current circumstances." He shrugged. "Now, as I was saying, my mission was to investigate Tassil, to evaluate the situation. However, being a full commander, I have a certain amount of initiative to exercise, so I decided to also look into whether or not any of the resistance groups I knew to be in the area could be of any assistance to us."

Ahmed's eyes narrowed, as did Cagalli's. "And just what makes you think we'd be inclined to help the Earth Forces in the first place?" she asked.

"Mutual gain," the pilot replied. "I wouldn't expect you to aid the Earth Forces at large, anyway; the _Archangel,_ on the other hand, is a very different story. They're not like the rest of EAF. My point, however, is that you're no happier with ZAFT's presence than we are; and any blow we struck against them would be a blow in your favor, as well." He twitched his shoulders. "As I said, mutual gain. I doubt I'd trust anything other than enlightened self-interest at this point, anyway."

Kisaka gave the ace a shrewd look. "You make a convincing argument, I'll grant. Enough of one that I think this should be discussed with the rest of the group." He looked at the girl. "Cagalli?"

Cagalli reluctantly nodded. "I agree." In her case, though, it was less what Falcon said now than what she remembered of their long-ago discussions over the global networks. What he said now was consistent with what he'd said then, which lent him at least _some_ credibility. "So, Mr. Grimaldi Falcon, do you have a name?"

"Commander Ken DiFalco," he replied. "But people call me Falcon." He looked over at Kisaka. "You do realize I'm not empowered to make any offers at this point."

The bodyguard smiled slightly. "If you'd said you were, I wouldn't have trusted you even this far. I am curious, however, that you would so openly admit that your ship is here."

Falcon shrugged. "One: it's fairly I obvious that it's _somewhere,_ see I'm here; and Miss Yula here probably wouldn't find it very difficult to figure out _what_ ship, given the... circumstances surrounding our last meeting. Two: I didn't tell you _where_ it is."

Kisaka slowly shook his head. "You haven't changed one bit, Commander."

* * *

_Archangel, _Infirmary

* * *

Kira was not quite awake, yet no longer quite asleep. Images and voices went through his mind; he someone recalled that most of them were from a recent battle, including biting words between a pair of swordsmen whom he vaguely recalled had been trying to kill each other for over a year. 

Other sounds seemed to be more recent, and more concerned about him; something about a fever having finally gone down, he thought. "He should be waking up soon," he heard.

At last, Kira's eyes opened. "I'm awake," he managed. "What... happened...?"

The first thing he saw was Flay's concerned face above him. "Kira! I'm so glad you're awake. We were so worried..."

He tried to sit up. "Where am I, Flay?"

She quickly, gently, pushed him back down. "Don't try to sit up so soon," she warned. "You're still in the Infirmary; and you were unconscious for several hours. But you're going to be just fine, now; the doctor says you're recovering well."

Kira managed a weary nod. "I see." It was about then that he noticed the presence of gravity. "So we must have landed safely..."

Flay nodded. "We're on Earth, in the middle of the Sahara; we landed sometime last night. How do you feel?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Been better," he admitted. He remembered something else then; one of the two arguing swordsmen. "Hey, how's Falcon? I know he was coming down in his machine, too; is he...?"

Something flickered in her eyes, too fast for Kira to notice, at the mention of that hated name. "He's fine," she answered, managing to keep her voice even and soothing. "He and his sister made a more controlled landing, next to the _Archangel._ Commander DiFalco isn't aboard right now, though; I hear he's on some kind of mission." _Hopefully, it'll be dangerous enough to end his interference... permanently._

"I'm glad to hear it." Kira didn't know what he'd do without Falcon in the background, backing him up in battle and providing helpful advice whenever his determination wavered. _He's the reason we made it this far, not me; I may have done more fighting, but without him, I never would have had the nerve..._

"Right now, though," Flay said brusquely, "you're the one we're worrying about. But you're going to be just fine, Kira," she went on with a smile.

Behind it, though, her thoughts were very different. _Once you get better, Kira, you can get back to avenging my father... and if I have my way, you'll finish the job by fighting Falcon. With luck, you'll kill each other... and my father will truly be avenged..._

* * *

Tassil, House

* * *

"So you're the one they call the Grimaldi Falcon," greeted a stocky man with a full beard and mustache. "I must say, this isn't an encounter I ever expected to have." 

"The feeling is mutual," Falcon said, "Mr...?"

"I go by the name Sahib Ashman." Sahib inclined his head. "Kisaka tells me you're no longer with ZAFT; is that true?"

"It is," the pilot acknowledged. "And if you want proof, just remember that I killed two of my old comrades at Heliopolis... and the Le Creuset team seems intent on doing _me_ in now."

The leader of the Desert Dawn narrowed his eyes. "That last could be explained by the well-known enmity between you and Le Creuset."

"No," Falcon countered, "it can't. One: we're both too professional to kill each other, were we on the same side. Two: one of the pilots on his team happens to be a friend of mine, and he wouldn't be fighting me without direct orders from ZAFT Command."

Sahib grunted. It made sense; his question had merely been a test. "Is that sword the only weapon you're carrying?"

The pilot regarded him coolly, then twitched his right wrist; a sliver of metal dropped into his palm, and a press of a button flicked open the high-quality switchblade. He flipped it into the air, caught it, and slipped it back up his sleeve. "Sometimes a sword is a little too blatant," he said calmly. "Are you going to ask me to disarm?"

The resistance leader had the distinct feeling that the switchblade wasn't the only surprise the man carried; but he'd passed the test. "You're well known for keeping your word, Commander," Sahib said at last. "For now, that's good enough; though I'd strongly recommend you not make any... hasty moves."

"I don't have a death wish, Mr. Ashman; I'm well aware you have sufficient people close by to turn me into Swiss cheese. Besides, despite my interest in the martial arts, I am not a ground soldier." Falcon narrowed his eye. "Now, Mr. Ashman- shall we talk?"

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

"I looked over the manual last night, and they look like they could be a lot of fun," Mu said to his companions, standing on the ladder leading to the cockpit of a Skygrasper; the Eighth Fleet had delivered to of the machines to the _Archangel._ "What do you think, Commander?" 

"You can call me Sophia, Commander, or Kestrel," Sophia replied. "Believe it or not, I really don't like to stand on ceremony that much." Sophia smiled slightly. "You're thinking of Lieutenant Badgiruel."

"Guess you're right. Make it Mu, then; we're equal in rank, anyway." The Hawk glanced at her sidelong. "You know, when I first came aboard, I'll confess I didn't like you very much, Sophia. Partly because of the way you talked about your -our- brother, and partly because... well, there was just something about your attitude."

"I was a little off-balance at the time," she said, waving a hand. "First Heliopolis is attacked, then my little brother turns up in a mobile suit I designed, and then it turns out that he's one of ZAFT's top pilots... and he nearly killed me last year. But, we seem to be getting along a little better now; maybe because he knows _I'm_ a pilot, too."

"I'll admit _I_ was surprised." Mu raised an eyebrow. "By the way, do you know if the Captain intends to discipline Falcon any for his actions in orbit? I know he countermanded her orders..."

"Nah," Sophia said, dismissing the notion. "First of all, he technically did have the authority to do it, as wing commander; second, it turned out to be the right thing to do. And third, I think Murrue is starting to realize that Falcon really does have a clearer idea of how to make use of mobile weapons on the battlefield. As to your original question," she went on, "I think you're right about the Skygraspers. They're a newer model than the fighters I flew last year, with more firepower and maneuverability. That beam turret they've got, for example, would make taking on mobile suits a lot easier."

"Not to mention the ability to use the Striker packs, eh?" Murdoch put in. "Put an Agni on one of those birds, and you've really got something."

"Yeah," Mu agreed, "but if you'll notice, the primary -intended- purpose of that capability is to deliver them to the Strike. So what does that make us, delivery boys?"

Sophia grinned. "Hey, Mu, since when do the pilots actually use things the way the design engineers intend? We're the ones on the sharp end, the ones who know how something actually performs in the field. If those Striker packs really do work, combined with the Skygrasper's mobility, then it'll be worth it to use 'em that way. Besides, we've got spares of the Striker weaponry; mostly for the Raptor's benefit, to be sure, but you'll notice Falcon doesn't use much more than his machine's standard armament anyway." She fondly patted the second Skygrasper. "I, for one, can't wait to take it for a spin; which reminds me: Chief, can you repaint this thing?"

Murdoch scratched his head. "Can I? Sure; but it's not exactly regulation."

She snorted. "Point one: it's going to be weeks before we get anywhere _near_ anyone who'll complain. Point two: I always give my birds custom paint jobs, and the brass know it."

The mechanic smiled slowly. "And so does ZAFT... which means they might be a little more cautious, when they see your colors flying off the _Archangel._ Okay, Commander, you got it. What do you?"

"Turquoise fuselage, with gold wings, vertical stabilizers, and turret," Sophia answered. "Oh, and a raptor beak on the nose; that's what I always flew with, before getting transferred to the G-weapon project."

"You got it," Murdoch said again. He grinned broadly. "Besides, ain't every day my boys and I get to break regs!"

Mu shook his head. "You know, Sophia," his said to his fellow pilot, _sotto voce,_ "I'm beginning to think that mechanics aren't entirely sane."

Sophia smirked. "Mu, every plane captain I've ever dealt with has said the same thing about pilots. Takes no to know one, I guess; we're all odd in our own ways."

"Yeah, I guess." His brow furrowed. "Speaking of pilot oddities, do either of you have any idea why Kira and Falcon call those things 'Gundams'? First Kira did it, then our emotionless ace picked it up; what on earth does it mean?"

Murdoch and Sophia started to speak simultaneously; the mechanic waved for the more knowledgeable mobile suit designer to continue. "It comes from the machines' startup screens," she explained. "The G-weapons use a system called 'General Unilateral Neuro-link Dispersive Autonomic Maneuver System'; when that comes up on the activation screen, reading the first letters of each word top-to-bottom gives you 'Gundam'. I guess Kira thought it sounded better than G-weapon."

Mu shook his head. "Makes sense; he is -or was- a civilian. What I can't figure out it why _Falcon_ would use it. I mean, the way he acts..."

Sophia shrugged. "Hey, he cracks jokes, remember? I still don't think he's capable of _strong_ positive emotion, but he's obviously got a sense of humor; and..." She hesitated. "There's a picture, in Raptor's cockpit," she said slowly. "I don't know who it is, but she -yes, I said _she-_ appears to be a female ZAFT pilot. She's wearing a ZAFT top gun flightsuit, in blue and gold; it looks like she's standing in front of a slate gray GINN, which is another indication she was -or is- an acquaintance of Falcon. But I don't know what the photo means to him."

The other pilot scratched his chin. "Old flame, you think?"

"How should _I_ know? Before Heliopolis, Falcon and I had barely spoken in years. I'm sure she's a friend of his, but beyond that, your guess is as good as mine." Sophia gave him a helpless look. "I can't imagine who you might talk to in order to find out, either; I doubt Falcon's told _anybody_ about it, knowing him; not even Kira."

"Huh." Mu shrugged, telling himself that pursing the subject, especially with someone who clearly had no more idea than he as to the answer, was futile. "Speaking of Kira, how is the kid, anyway?"

"His fever's gone down," Murdoch replied. "I hear he woke up earlier today, a few hours after Commander DiFalco left for Tassil; a couple hours ago, the doc sent him back to his quarters." He chuckled. "Hard to believe the kid's an ensign already, y'know?"

"Yeah..." The pilot frowned. "You know, I wonder where Falcon is now. He's been gone for several hours now... In fact, almost a day."

Sophia waved a hand. "I wouldn't worry about him, Mu; he probably found something interesting he figured he should check out. Or maybe he decided to take a nap in his jeep before heading back. I wouldn't blame him; hasn't had any sleep since the Eighth Fleet went up."

"I guess." He shot her a curious glance. "Or maybe he's pursuing whatever crazy plan that's gotten him this far; I wouldn't put it past him to make use of any resources he could find for whatever scheme he's up to."

"Like making contact with the resistance fighters he's supposed to be looking into?" She frowned. "It's possible, I guess; Falcon still doesn't _want_ to fight ZAFT, but it's clear by now he'll do it without hesitation. So yeah, it's possible he made contact with them. I wouldn't worry about that either, though; I think Falcon's a little... off base right now, maybe even slightly unhinged, but that's more a matter of an obsession. He'll do whatever it takes to accomplish whatever goal it is that he's set himself, but he won't sell out the _Archangel._ It wouldn't surprise me if he's _mentioned_ her... but on the other hand, our entrance was probably a little hard to miss."

"Nothing like looking like a shooting star," Murdoch agreed. "I hope he knows what he's doing, though."

"That makes a shipload of us, I think, Chief," Mu told him. "But what the hey; the guy's supposed to be some kind of brilliant strategist, isn't he?"

"That, Mu," Sophia told him, "is about the one thing I _am_ worried about. He's brilliant... but there's a fine line between genius and insanity, and we know he can get overconfident."

Murdoch looked at her strangely. "We do?"

She met his gaze. "Well, _something_ he did -or helped with- made him leave ZAFT, didn't it?"

Neither of her companions had anything to say to that.

* * *

_Archangel, _Cafeteria

* * *

Four of the newly-minted Crewmen 2nd Class happened to be off-duty at the same time, and they took the opportunity to get a relaxing meal in the cafeteria. The last couple of days had been _extremely_ hectic. 

"You know," Kuzzey remarked, "if I'd known we were gonna be going straight into a battle like that last one, I might have thought twice about enlisting."

Tolle grinned. "Yeah, but you'd have done it anyway, right? Especially if you'd known what was going to happen to the shuttle?"

Remembering _that_ incident dampened all their spirits momentarily. "Kira must have taken it pretty hard," Sai mused. "After protecting those people all the way to Earth, only to have them shot down right before his eyes... It must have been tough."

"For Falcon, too," Mir opined. "Though probably not as badly," she conceded. "He doesn't seem the type to beat himself up over something he had no control over."

"What about the Bloody Valentine?" Tolle questioned. "From what you said, he didn't take _that_ very well."

"That was different; I hear at Junius Seven, he was actually in a position to stop the nuclear strike, but he failed." She shook her head. "Yesterday was completely different. First he was busy trying to shoot down his old student, then he had to try and avoid getting burned to a crisp on the way down to Earth." Mir sighed. "I hope he gets back soon; he's just about the only one who might be able to talk some sense into Kira about it." _Besides Flay,_ she thought. _And I still don't like what's going on with that._

As though summoned by the flight ops volunteer's thoughts, the hatch opened, admitting Flay Allster herself. "Hello," she greeted the group at large. She was carrying a tray; Kira's most recent meal.

"Hi, Flay," Mir said, pushing her suspicions to the back of her mind. "How's Kira?"

"Recovering nicely," the redhead replied. "In fact, the Doctor sent him back to his quarters a couple hours ago; now all he needs is some rest." She raised the tray. "I just finished eating with him, and I think he's doing just fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Sai said. "We were all pretty worried about him."

Flay nodded absently. "So where's Falcon?"

Tolle blinked at the non sequitur. "Uh, he's still out on his assignment. Why?"

She shrugged. "Just curious." _Good; the longer he's out of the way, the longer I have to mold Kira into the weapon I need..._

"You look pretty tired," Sai said, after a long silence. "You were watching over Kira all night, weren't you? You should get some rest."

Flay shook her head. "I'm feeling just fine, thanks; in fact, I think we'll go and check on Kira again. It _was_ a rough time for him, so I'm still a little worried." She turned away, muttering to herself, "Kira needs to get better as soon as possible."

Mir looked at her, gauging her mood. Something didn't seem quite right...

"Anyway," the girl went on, "I'll see you all later." She turned to leave.

Sai, a feeling of indefinable dread in the pit of his stomach, caught up with her at the hatch. "Uh, Flay...?"

Flay shot him a look of disgust. "What do you want, Sai?"

He blinked, dread growing stronger. "Um, well... It's nothing, really, but I..."

_Oh, that,_ she thought, even more disgusted than she appeared. "Sai," she said in a tightly controlled voice, "our engagement was arranged by my father, without asking for my approval; it wasn't exactly my idea. And, as you can see, he's no longer around." She shot him another less-than-pleased look. "I don't see any reason to think about an obsolete arrangement anymore, do you?"

Sai's eyes were very wide as his -ex- fiancé left the cafeteria. _Huh...? No... it can't..._

Tolle and Mir exchanged glances. "Something doesn't seem right here," he said softly.

"I know," she murmured. "Falcon and I have been keeping an eye on the situation for days now; but I think it's gone farther than we thought." _Come on, Falcon,_ she thought. _Hurry back._

* * *

Tassil, House

* * *

Falcon and Sahib had been engrossed in discussion for less than an hour when the messenger came; not even enough time to get past the verbal sparing and into the true meat of the conversation. 

"What is it?" the resistance leader asked, when the man entered.

"It's the Desert Tiger," the messenger reported breathlessly. "He's left the _Lesseps,_ with several BuCUEs; somewhere between five and ten, we're not exactly sure. We think he's on his way to that ship."

Falcon stood so fast his chair fell over. "In that case, Mr. Ashman, I'm afraid we must cut this conversation short."

Cagalli grabbed his arm when he moved toward the door. "And just where do you think _you're_ going?"

He shook her off. "Back to my ship. I don't know if you understand the concept of duty, but I do; I'm needed there, and that's where I'm going." He looked back at Sahib. "I don't know if I've convinced you we could help each other in this situation, and right now I don't particularly care. I know you don't like the Earth Forces... so you can help us fight off Andy Waltfeld or not. Your choice." The Grimaldi Falcon quickly replaced his sunglasses with his customary eyepatch. "I, however, must be going."

He swept out of the building, leaving the resistance fighters to look at each other, silently weighing their options. "Well, Kisaka?" Ashman said at last. "What do you think?"

The bodyguard shrugged. "All I can tell you is based on my own previous encounter with Commander DiFalco, last year; but what I remember makes me inclined to trust him to a certain degree. He keeps his word. And if anyone is capable of bringing an end to the war, as he proposes, I'd put my money on him."

"Which would be advantageous to us as well," Ashman mused. "Very well," he said, hearing the distant sound of Falcon's jeep getting into motion. "Gather the men, and prepare to move out." He grinned. "After all, we can hardly have a proper talk with them if we let the Tiger blow them sky high, now can we?"

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has landed on Earth, and contact with the resistance fighters has been made. Now the Desert Tiger is on his way to cause trouble… and on top of that, it appears Flay wants Falcon dead… 

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, you are quite correct that there will be many more surprises in this story; not, of course, that I'm going to spoil any of them quite yet…

Infinite Freedom, all I will say about the destruction of GENESIS is that Falcon will _not_ be self-destructing inside the weapon. Kevin Walker already pulled that stunt, remember?

As regards the pairing, guess all you want; I'm too cagey to say one way or the other, as you know.

One problem with the notion of Tempest flying a Forbidden Blue: that's an _Earth Forces_ machine, whereas Tempest is a _ZAFT_ pilot. I will say that I've decided on what his _final_ machine will be, though.

As you can see, you were correct in thinking that Sophia's going to wind up piloting a Skygrasper; as to the possibility of her flying a mobile suit… I admit I haven't decided yet. That will take some thinking.

Ninofchaos, glad you liked it; I'll be keeping an eye on your story, as well (would have left a longer review last time, but I was a little tired at the time).

Ominae, I see I achieved the desired effect with those twists; I seem to be having more success in that regard than I did in Brothers in Arms. As mentioned earlier in the notes, there will be a number of surprises yet.

I will say, by the way, that Falcon and Sophia _will_ reconcile fully… and a little sooner than I'd originally intended, judging from the last couple chapters.

As for Falcon's past… suffice it to say that it will all be revealed at the proper time. Sequence and order, time and stress…

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, I think you'll like the finale; I'm planning something very big…

Centurious, you should expect updates every week or so. You see, I'm trying to get to at least the Battle of Alaska by the time I begin Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms; that means that, going by my progress so far, I need to write approximately two hundred thousand words in the next three or four months. That, in turn, means that I need to write two to three times faster than usual. Needless to say, I'm going to be busy.

Those will hardly be the last major twists, of course; just as examples, I'm planning… interesting… changes to Phases 25, 30, and 35. Naturally, those won't be the only ones…

Warp Ligia Obscura, it simply wasn't Huckebein's time to die (again); I have very specific plans for the manner and timing of his demise, as you'll see. He will, of course, be a perennial nuisance throughout. (And no, that saying wouldn't quite apply to Falcon; as will be seen, there's a reason he doesn't exactly consider himself a hero.)

I was actually a little surprised the Mu didn't have the SEED in the series; he seemed the type for it. In any case, I decided I might as well add it for my purposes.

I'm sure I will enjoy messing with Destiny's plot; I already have numerous detailed plans for it. Now, as for _this_ story… I will say that Flay's going to survive, though I won't say how; beyond that, I'll just let you speculate for now…

Now, when it comes to Kevin, I don't think I said that his tale was _done_, exactly; the general details of his past have been revealed, but in A Call to Arms, I'll be going far more into specifics. ABADDON will not remain in his buried past forever…

I _might_ have a mention of Kevin in here, as you suggest; something that bears thinking on, certainly. I'm just not sure how well it would work. On the other hand, there are ways…

Another forty-five minutes taken up by author's notes; figures. I'm not even sure why I bother to complain about it anymore. Habit, I suppose. Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter. -Solid Shark


	13. Chapter 13: Desert Strike

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, February 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

The _Archangel_'s understrength crew had finally begun to relax, now that they had landed on Earth. After a day with nothing happening, they had begun to think that, perhaps, ZAFT had not detected their presence. 

There was only a skeleton crew on the Bridge right now, consisting of Natarle, Neumann, and Chandra; after the long journey from Heliopolis, the crew needed a rest, before they burned out. With no obvious threats -and a fast reaction time- Murrue had felt they could -and must- take the chance.

_Still,_ Natarle mused,_ I wish the replacement crew members hadn't gotten killed with the advance force; it would be nice to have at least a few more people to help carry the load._ She was also concerned about Falcon. The pilot had left on his mission nearly twenty-four hours earlier, and hadn't made contact since.

She had no way of knowing that he was, at that moment, making haste to the _Archangel..._ to warn them of an impending threat.

Natarle's musing was interrupted by the sound of something falling to the deck, and she looked up to see Neumann looking very surprised. _Figures, _she thought, amused. He'd attempted to set aside a drink container by simply letting go of it in the air... forgetting that they were now in a gravity well.

She stood, walked over, and picked up the container. "Ensign Neumann," she told him, "please try to remember that we're not in space anymore; Chief Murdoch and his people get annoyed enough with us line officers without our making the Bridge a mess, too."

Neumann smiled sheepishly. "I'll remember that, Lieutenant Badgiruel."

"Make sure you do." Natarle returned to the captain's chair, and glanced back at Chandra, who was currently occupying Communications. "I don't suppose there's any word from Commander DiFalco?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm afraid not. There's been no word since he left..." He consulted his display. "Twenty hours ago."

"I see." She shook her head. _He'd better get back here soon, or he'll be asleep on his feet._ She looked up as she heard the Bridge hatch open.

"Still no word, huh?" Sophia said, entering.

"No, Commander," Natarle answered. "Do you have any idea what could be keeping him?"

"No, unfortunately." The engineer-pilot shrugged ruefully. "Remember, Lieutenant, I'd barely even seen the guy for years; I'm not really sure how he operates these days."

"Vehicle entering outer detection perimeter!" Chandra suddenly called out. "Computer believes it to be Commander DiFalco's jeep!"

"Put it on," the two officers ordered simultaneously.

On the main monitor, the jeep appeared; Falcon's distinctive gray trench coat confirmed that it was him. It appeared to be moving at a high rate of speed, as well. "You never mentioned your brother drives like a maniac," Natarle commented dryly.

"I didn't know either," Sophia replied. "Again, I hadn't seen him much in years." She frowned. "I wonder just what's got him in such a hurry."

"I don't know; but I think we should open the vehicle hatch and let him aboard."

Falcon's jeep didn't even slow down as it shot up into the _Archangel;_ his haste was even more evident when his face appeared on one of the monitors less than thirty seconds later. _"This is Falcon,"_ he called, controlled urgency in his voice. _"Order all hands to Level One Battlestations."_

Natarle, though unsure as to what was going on, did not hesitate to obey the higher-ranking officer's orders. "All hands to Level One Battlestations," she barked. "Repeat all hands to Level One Battlestations!" As the alarms began to blare, she looked back at Falcon. "What's going on, Commander?"

_"A reliable source informs me that the Desert Tiger is on the move,"_ he replied grimly._ "He's headed for the _Archangel_ with an undetermined number of BuCUEs and Agile attack helicopters. Tell Sophia and Mu to mount up."_ He paused._ "How's Kira?"_

Sophia leaned forward. "He's out of the Infirmary, but the Doctor says he needs a couple days of bed rest; he's in his quarters right now."

_"Understood."_ Falcon frowned._ "Knowing him, he'll head for the Strike right away; if he asks for launch clearance, either patch him through to me or tell him that he's not to launch, by my order. Understood?"_

"Yes, Commander," Natarle acknowledged. She paused. "Can you handle that many enemy units by yourself?"

His response was less than encouraging. _"Probably not; that's why I need both Skygraspers up, if at all possible. They're not ideal, especially against mobile suits, but they're what we've got."_

"I'll be right out there," Sophia promised. Then it was her turn to pause. "I assume you'll be shooting to disable?"

An even longer pause from Falcon. _"No,"_ he said at last. _"I've never fought in a gravity well before; I can't afford to try disabling attacks until I've adjusted to the environmental conditions."_

His sister nodded in understanding. _Sorry, little brother,_ she thought sympathetically. _I know what this must be doing to you..._ She had a pretty good idea of how _she'd_ feel if she had to fight the Earth Forces, after all. "I'll launch right away, Falcon."

_"Good; Falcon out."_ The pilot's image vanished.

Moments later, Murrue entered the Bridge at high speed, followed closely by the rest of the Bridge crew. "What's going on?" she demanded, sliding into the chair Natarle hastily vacated. "Give me a report."

"Commander DiFalco just returned, Ma'am," Natarle responded, moving to her accustomed position in CIC. "He ordered Level One Battlestations, and reported that a 'reliable source' informed him that Andrew Waltfeld is on his way here, with an undetermined number of BuCUEs and attack choppers. He's also ordered Commanders La Flaga and DiFalco to launch at once."

Murrue nodded in agreement. "Very well; though I'm afraid Commander La Flaga's Skygrasper isn't quite ready yet." She paused. "Did he have any orders regarding the Strike?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He instructed that Ensign Yamato is _not_ launch."

"Good." _Kira's in no condition to fight; not after that last battle._ "All right. Activate Igelstellungs, and load missile tubes."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Murrue silently cursed to herself. _We got overconfident, after a day without activity; and now all we've got to defend us are two mobile armors -one of which isn't even ready for flight- and two mobile suits, both of which have pilots who shouldn't be flying right now at all._ Kira was, to be sure, worse off; but she had no doubt that Falcon was suffering from a lack of sleep. The only good thing was that he was apparently accustomed to it.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Falcon had left the hangar only long enough to don his flightsuit; under the circumstances, he didn't expect to need it -they _were_ in atmosphere, after all- but he also knew better than anyone the consequences of not having the Raptor's power supply hooked up during the battle. 

_Yeah, having a heart attack while I'm fighting would be a very bad thing, _he mused, running over to his machine.

Murdoch caught up with him along the way. "You need any extra weapons this time out, Commander?"

Falcon shook his head. "Negative, Chief; in fact, I won't be using even the Death Blossoms, if I can avoid it. They can get airborne in a gravity well, but it'd be too power-intensive to make it worth it, under most circumstances." He paused. "In fact, when I get back from this one, see about removing the beam cannons, will you? I'll need to save power as much as I can anyway, and one thing I _really_ don't need is extra weight. Against BuCUEs, I'll need as much mobility as I can get."

"Got it, Commander. Good luck."

_I don't believe in luck,_ the pilot thought, ascending the zip-line into his cockpit._ Except maybe bad; I've gotten enough of _that_ in recent years._

Sophia entered the hangar shortly thereafter, once again in her blue and gold flightsuit. "Is my bird ready, Chief?" she demanded without preamble.

Murdoch shrugged. "It'll fly, if that's what you mean; but I wouldn't quite say that we've gotten all the bugs out of it yet."

"Too bad," she said coolly. "I can't wait for it to be perfect; and I've flown machines in worse shape. Get me out to the catapult as soon as I'm strapped in." The Kestrel glanced over at Mu, who was also entering. "I hear your plane's not quite ready yet," she called. "I'll try to keep them busy till you launch."

The Hawk waved a hand. "I'm sure you will, Kestrel. Between you and Falcon, you probably won't even leave any targets for me or Kira."

Sophia shook her head and began running to her Skygrasper. "Kira won't be in this battle," she said. "Falcon's orders; which I happen to agree with. So it's up to us."

"Murphy's Law," Mu said, resigned. "C'mon, Chief, and help me get this bird airborne; we haven't got time to mess around."

"Got it, Commander." _Man,_ the mechanic thought. _This ship is getting crowded with aces; at this rate, the ego will be taking up more room than the machines..._

* * *

_Archangel, _Catapults

* * *

Falcon was tense- something that was fairly unusual for him, preceding a battle such as this. There was always the background fear, but he was only outnumbered about nine to one; had he still been with ZAFT, he would have found that hardly worth worrying about. 

Unfortunately, the _reason_ he wouldn't have been particularly worried was because he would have been facing mobile armors; clay pigeons for any half-ways decent mobile suit pilot, let alone one with his skill and experience. BuCUEs, on the other hand... While Falcon had never before fought in atmosphere, he _had_ piloted BuCUEs a time or two, back in the PLANTs. That meant he knew what their weaknesses were; but it also meant he knew that they were very, very good at their jobs.

_In a space model,_ he thought_, going up against BuCUEs in the desert, my only chance to stay airborne almost constantly. That'll be a huge power drain, which means no Death Blossoms; beam sabers are probably my best bet._ Falcon took several deep breaths, preparing mind and body for the coming battle._ Don't take too long, Falcon, or you'll run out of power, become a sitting duck, and leave _Archangel_ open to destruction._

That reminded him of the task at hand, and he keyed his radio. "Bridge, this is Falcon; tell me what we're up against."

_"Nine BuCUEs,"_ Mir responded,_ "and several attack helicopters; we still haven't got an accurate count on those."_

"Not surprising; they're pretty small, and hard to detect by heat signature, anyway." Falcon shook his head. "Don't worry about the choppers; they can't do much to the _Archangel,_ and nothing they have will hurt Raptor. It's the BuCUEs that will be the real challenge... especially if the pilots are good enough to be in the Waltfeld team."

_"I see..."_ One of the few things that bothered Mir about her soft-spoken friend was his habit of calmly enumerating every single possible reason that they _weren't_ going to make it out of the battle in one piece.

His habit of promptly going out and blasting the opposition to dust bunnies, on the other hand, more than compensated.

_"Well,"_ she continued after a moment, recovering her wits,_ "Raptor is connected to the catapult. You may launch when ready, Falcon."_

"Understood. One moment." Falcon keyed his link with his sister's Skygrasper. "Kestrel, how are you doing over there? Ready for launch?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Sophia replied. "I've got the spare Launcher pack, so at least I'll be able to hit 'em hard... if I can hit them at all."

He raised an eyebrow. "Fought BuCUEs before, have you?"

"Yeah. And let me tell you, they're a pain in neck." She grimaced. "I wish we were fighting ZuOOTs; they're sitting ducks for anything, let alone a Skygrasper. Or even GINNs or CGUEs on Guuls. BuCUEs... they're just bad news."

"Tell me about it." Falcon switched back to his link with Mir. "Bridge, this is the Grimaldi Falcon. Raptor Gundam, launching."

He was echoed almost immediately by the Skygrasper pilot. "Victorian Kestrel, launching in Skygrasper 2."

The two machines shot out of the catapults, ready to do battle against the Desert Tiger.

* * *

Libyan Desert

* * *

On the outskirts of the soon-to-be battle area, watching his BuCUEs and helicopters approach the _Archangel,_ sat Andrew Waltfeld, in his jeep; at his side was his protégé and second in command, Martin DaCosta. 

"Well," he murmured, sipping at a cup of coffee, "it looks like the fun is about to start. They've launched one of their mobile suits, and a mobile armor..."

DaCosta squinted through a pair of binoculars. "Looks like one of the Earth Forces' new Skygraspers, and the Raptor," he noted. "Isn't that...?"

Waltfeld nodded. "Yes, Commander DiFalco's new personal machine. I hear he's a hot hand with it; not that I'd expect anything less." He took another sip. "A shame, really, what's about to happen."

DaCosta glanced at him. "Excuse me, Sir? What do you mean?"

"New instructions came in just after the Eighth Fleet was wiped out," his commander informed him. "Standing orders regarding Commander DiFalco have been modified. We're not even supposed to try to capture him anymore; now our orders are shoot on sight." He smiled slightly. "Though to be honest, I think that might prove slightly difficult."

The younger man nodded in agreement. He'd never met DiFalco in person, but he knew the man's reputation; and judging from the trouble he'd been causing lately, that reputation was by no means undeserved. "So what do we do, Commander?"

"We try to swarm him with BuCUEs," Waltfeld said simply. "And hope they take their time launching the Strike; bad enough to be facing _one_ Phase-shift-equipped machine at a time."

* * *

Falcon used a fine touch on Raptor's verniers to bring it to a soft landing on the desert sand; he didn't yet trust his footing enough to risk anything harder. "Got a tallyho on the bandits," he called, checking his detection screen. "Watch yourself, Kestrel." 

"Same to you, Falcon," Sophia replied, circling overhead in her Skygrasper. "I see the choppers," she added a moment later. "Shall I go and play with them?"

"That would be the polite thing to do," her brother agreed. "While you're busy playing tag, I'll try and keep those BuCUEs on their toes."

"Got it. Good luck."

Watching Sophia fighter pull away, toward the helicopter, Falcon sighed. "I'll probably need it," he muttered. "Never thought I'd ever _have_ to know how to fight in atmosphere..."

Then there was no more time for talk. The first of the nine BuCUEs was upon him, and it was time to see if his reputation was really deserved or not.

He immediately used one of his primary advantages, taking to the sky in a blaze of thruster wash. _Beam saber time,_ the one-eyed pilot thought. _Too many uncertainties to use the rifle in atmosphere for now; I don't know how the air will effect it._

Maintaining hover at an altitude of a little over a hundred meters, Raptor drew a beam saber in one smooth motion, presenting the blade of frozen fire as a beacon against the night sky. The its pilot keyed his radio, opened his mouth, and uttered his trademark ascending wail.

The pilot of the lead BuCUE hissed. "So it _is_ you, Grimaldi Falcon," he snarled angrily. "You know what the penalty for treason is, don't you?"

"Death," Falcon replied. "I haven't forgotten; nor will I. However... I must inform you that I haven't actually committed treason at all."

"Oh yeah? Then what do you call killing those pilots at Heliopolis?" the BuCUE pilot challenged. "What do you call helping the Earth Forces, huh?"

"ZAFT betrayed me before I betrayed ZAFT," Falcon replied coldly; now he was trying to keep the enemy talking as long as possible. A stalling tactic. "If you knew just what ZAFT has waiting in the wings to unleash against Earth, maybe you'd be fighting _with_ me, not against me... Unless you're one of those who thinks that the objective is the subjugation of the Naturals?"

"What else could it be?"

"The objective, comrade, is the protection of the PLANTs." Raptor waved its blade in a warning gesture. "That doesn't require conquering the planet."

"But it would work, wouldn't it?" Then the pilot stopped himself, and realized what the "traitor" was trying to do. "Enough, 'Commander'; your words won't stall us any longer!" The BuCUE, capable of mighty leaps, sprang up at the Gundam.

Falcon shook his head sadly. _Impetuous youth,_ he thought to himself, oblivious to the fact that the pilot in question was probably older than he was. _Too bad it's getting you killed._ He readied himself for the attack...

What he was not prepared for was gravity. Accustomed to battle in the vacuum of space, Falcon had intended to allow the BuCUE to hit him, which -in space- would have knocked him backwards, but done no real harm to the PSA; it would have given him the perfect opening to eviscerate the unlucky pilot. What he had not reckoned with was the fact that, on Earth, the blow destabilized him, allowing gravity to take over and bring him to the ground.

"You shoulda known better than to take a space model up against our BuCUEs in the desert," the pilot sneered. "The only thing worse than a traitor is an _incompetent_ trait-"

He never finished the sentence. A blade of pure energy slashed upwards from where Raptor lay in the sand, cutting the front right quarter of the machine away... including the front right quarter of the cockpit and pilot. "I may be new to fighting in a gravity well," Falcon said through gritted teeth, "but I'm a fast learner."

Sophia flashed by, tossed him a salute, and shot away again, casually blasting a helicopter with her beam turret on the way by.

* * *

Waltfeld inclined his head. "He's good," he said grudgingly. "I didn't expect him to take down one of our men that fast." He smiled to himself. "But he won't have it that easy again. He may be a fast learner, but so are our people, and they only have to learn how to fight the machine, not the terrain." 

DaCosta nodded in agreement. "We haven't lost yet. But... that mobile armor's paint scheme... seems familiar..."

"I know." The commander frowned. "Unless I'm greatly mistaken, those are the Victorian Kestrel's colors. And I shouldn't be mistaken; I fought against her at El Alamein." He shrugged. "In any case, it's only one mobile armor; I expect the losses among our helicopters will be ruinous, but the only real threat to the BuCUEs right now is that suit."

"What if they launch the Strike?"

"That," Waltfeld admitted, "could be a problem. On the other hand, they haven't done so yet; which tells me they can't or won't, for whatever reason. And even if he does launch, well... I highly doubt its pilot will be able to adapt as fast as DiFalco; there aren't many pilots like him out there." He smiled again. "And, from the looks of things, there might be one fewer pilot of his skill by daybreak."

* * *

Falcon allowed himself a curse. As he'd feared, the Waltfeld team's pilots were no rookies; they knew exactly how to use their BuCUEs like extensions of their own bodies, and, worse, they knew exactly how to fight in the sand. So far, using those advantages, they'd managed to keep him very busy; most of his time had been spent using short, boosted hops to stay ahead of the game without using the power extended flight would have required, or risking falling over in the sand again. 

He'd just begun another hop when his radio beeped at him. _"Falcon,"_ Mir called urgently, _"Kira is requesting permission to lift off. What do I-?"_

"Tell him permission is denied," the ace snapped, leaping away from a BuCUE's missile barrage. "He's in no condition to head out here."

"Roger that. I-"

Mir's face disappeared, replaced by Kira's. _"What are you talking about, Falcon?"_ he demanded angrily. _"I should be out there! You can't handle it all by yourself, and if more people die because I couldn't protect them...!"_

"Stuff it, _Ensign,"_ Falcon replied irritably. "I saw how you looked after your bout with reentry heat, and I'm telling you, as your superior officer and a veteran of some very nasty wounds, you have no business flying so soon after leaving the Infirmary. Have I made myself clear?"

Whether Kira agreed with him or not became irrelevant almost instantly, as a trio of BuCUEs took advantage of Falcon's split attention and attacked from three sides.

The pilot cursed as the barrage of missiles and railgun fire tore at him. His saber managed to cut down some of the missiles, and his shield caught the bullets, but his PS still took a beating. _This isn't good,_ he thought, growing more concerned by the moment. _I can't afford to run out of power, not now..._

Deep within his psyche, pressure began to build...

_"Falcon,"_ Murrue broke in,_ "I think you should reconsider. I don't like his attitude -or his condition- but we need everyone out there we can get."_

Falcon cursed silently. "Fine," he said, struggling to maintain his usual toneless voice. "But Kira, you and I are going to have a little talk when all this is over."

_"You have to survive it for you to chew me out,"_ Kira pointed out. He no longer sounded angry... but he did sound determined in a way that set off warning bells in his mentor's head. _"All that matters is defeating the enemy before they hurt anyone,"_ he added, exiting the catapult as though shot from a cannon; his Strike carried the other Launcher pack.

Kira pointed out. He no longer sounded angry... but he did sound determined in a way that set off warning bells in his mentor's head. he added, exiting the catapult as though shot from a cannon; his Strike carried the other Launcher pack. 

Falcon looked at him sharply, while boosting straight up. "That's not like you, Kira," he said slowly. "Just who have you been talking too since I left last night?"

A pause. "Flay and I... uh... talked last night," Kira said finally, sounding awkward.

The ace had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something very obscene. _"Talked", is it? I think you did rather more than _talk,_ Kira... and I get the feeling I'm going to have to spend a lot of time straightening you out. Not to mention keeping a _very_ close eye on Flay... Well, no time to worry about it now._

"Go after the BuCUEs," Falcon told his protégé, "and watch yourself; they're better in the environment than we are."

"Got it." Kira began to cautiously move out... though not as cautiously as the older pilot would have preferred, under the circumstances.

Falcon switched to his link with the _Archangel._ "Bridge, what's Mu's estimated time till launch?"

Murrue sighed. _"Still a few more minutes, I'm afraid; Skygrasper 1 has a few more bugs in it than Sophia's machine."_

"Figures," he muttered. "I'd ask Murdoch and his people to expedite, but they probably already know that... All right. Keep me posted. Falcon out."

* * *

Waltfeld smiled to himself. "They've finally launched the Strike," he murmured. "Good; and better yet, its pilot doesn't seem to be doing as well in the sand as his boss." 

DaCosta nodded, watching as the Strike's first tentative steps into the loose sand were interrupted by a leaping BuCUE. "It looks like he didn't expect any problems at all," he observed. "Is he really _that_ inexperienced?"

"Overconfident," Waltfeld opined. "He waltzed right through the Le Creuset team in space; it probably didn't occur to him to consider just how different conditions are in the desert, and how that affects battle strategy. We've got a chance to take him, here and now, thanks to that." He paused. "Unless DiFalco intervenes."

He didn't think DiFalco was in a position to do that just now, though; Raptor was beset by three BuCUEs and a pair of helicopters. As he watched, one of the choppers succumbed to a hyper-impulse shot from the Kestrel's Skygrasper, while the other suffered a lethal dose of lead from Raptor's Igelstellungs, but he was still outnumbered by the BuCUEs.

As far as Waltfeld could tell, it was only a matter of time before Raptor went down... especially since, according to his calculations, it only had a few more minutes of PSA and weapon energy left.

Of course, it _was_ the Grimaldi Falcon; if the stories about the Bloody Valentine were true, he might have another card up his sleeve... assuming he was even aware of it.

* * *

Falcon snapped of a shot from his beam rifle -currently held in his left hand, with the shield clipped on slight higher on the arm- and so convinced a BuCUE to back off for several seconds, in addition to placing it right in another's line of fire. 

That gave him enough breathing space to check on Kira. "How are you doing, kid?"

"Could be better," Kira grunted, leaping backwards; once again, he slipped, but this time he managed to duck the leaping BuCUE. "I can't keep my footing in this sand!"

"Adjust your OS settings," Falcon advised, realizing finally the solution to his own problem. "Reprogram the contact pressure..."

"...To compensate for the granularity of the sand." Kira nodded, swinging down his keyboard. "Got it, Falcon; thanks."

"No problem." The ace fired off another shot to keep his opponents busy, and set to work modifying his own OS. _Okay, Mr. Hacker, time to find out just how quick you can convince a program to do something it wasn't intended to do..._

_"Falcon,"_ Mir called, breaking into his thoughts,_ "Commander La Flaga's Skygrasper is ready for launch."_

Falcon nodded, feeling some of his tension dissipate. "Good. Tell him-" He broke off, as his display brought something to his attention. "Never mind. Patch me through to him directly."

"Roger that."

Mu's helmeted visage appeared on his screen. "What is it, Falcon?"

"Trouble," the one-eyed pilot told him. "We've got a laser designator pointed at the ship; probably a land battleship, somewhere beyond the battle zone. Since Andy Waltfeld is out here, I'm betting it's the _Lesseps."_

The Hawk cursed. "Figures. All right, I'm heading out; but I don't have a Striker pack equipped, so I won't be much good against the BuCUEs."

"I know; but we need someone to find that ship, anyway." Falcon juked left, narrowly avoiding a shot from a BuCUE's railgun. "Try and locate it, and give him something else to worry about, will you?"

"On it, Falcon." The second Skygrasper shot out of _Archangel_'s catapult, and Mu La Flaga went hunting for the enemy's mothership.

_Okay,_ Falcon thought._ Now that we've got everything airborne -except the ship- we've got at least a minuscule chance of pulling this off. So, Mr. Brilliant Strategist, what next?_

He wasn't too sure about that. Every one of his battle plans from when he was still with ZAFT had factored in engaging superior numbers; but back then, he'd been facing _inferior_ machines. When he had two mobile armors and two mobile suits against _eight_ mobile suits... things got a little trickier.

Well, no help for it; all he could do was try to prove that his reputation was not undeserved.

Meanwhile, Kira had finally gotten his footing; and now he was angry. "Leave me alone," he hissed as a BuCUE jumped at him. He dodged to one side, reached out with the Strike's free hand, and caught the four-legged machine's right forefoot. "Have some of this!" One handed, he swept the Agni around put a hyper-impulse blast right through the BuCUEs cockpit.

* * *

"We may have a problem," Waltfeld commented, almost to himself. "The Strike pilot adjusted to the sand a lot faster than I expected." 

"But we still have the advantage in numbers, sir," DaCosta pointed out. "The BuCUEs outnumber them seven to one, and the helicopters..."

He trailed off, and his commander smiled humorlessly as he saw the reason why. "The helicopters are no match for the Victorian Kestrel, apparently," he said, almost casually, as the last Agile exploded. "Make a note of that, DaCosta: Agile-class attack helicopters are virtually useless against the Earth Forces' new fightercraft."

"Yes, sir."

"On the bright side," Waltfeld went on, "I don't think that machine has much fuel left; she'll have to land soon enough."

* * *

"Sorry, Falcon," Sophia called to her brother, after checking her fuel gauges. "But I can't keep it up any longer; I need to land and refuel." 

"Understood." Falcon didn't allow his annoyance to taint his voice. "Hurry back; this is one nasty furball."

"I will." _Can't do anymore good up here,_ she thought bitterly. _I _really_ need to get a mobile suit one of these days; better endurance, more firepower._

Her brother was sorry to see her go, but he also knew her firepower wouldn't make much of a difference against BuCUEs anyway. _Kira and I will just have to make do._

Of course, Sophia wasn't the only one with endurance problems right now; a quick glance at his display showed his own power levels growing dangerously low. "Blast it," he muttered. "This is taking too long..." He leapt backwards, firing off another shot from his beam rifle, and skirted sideways to avoid another charging BuCUE. _These guys do seem to like contact sports, don't they?_

Kira had his own problems, but he was starting to get a handle on them. His destruction of that one BuCUE had infuriated its fellows, to be sure; but, as Falcon had taught him -in reference to Yzak Joule, but it held true here, too- an angry opponent made more mistakes... and he _did_ have heavier firepower.

Then one of them came at him from behind, and he realized he'd let himself become overconfident again. The BuCUE knocked the Strike to the ground, forcing him to roll sideways to avoid another attack.

"Not good," Kira muttered. He fired the Agni three times in quick succession, missing with every shot, and was forced to jump again to dodge the machine's return attack. "Why won't you just...!"

The two G-weapons were now heavily embattled; Kira had two BuCUEs coming after him, while Falcon had all _five_ of the others engaging him simultaneously. If something didn't happen, and soon, the _Archangel_ was going to be down two mobile suits in very short order.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Isn't there anything we can do to help them?" Murrue demanded in frustration. 

Natarle shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Captain. The fighting is taking place in such close quarters that we'd risk hitting our own machines, as well; and I don't think Commander DiFalco would be very happy about that."

The Captain reluctantly nodded. "I'm sure. What about Commander La Flaga? Has he found the ZAFT mothership yet?"

Mir consulted her displays. "Not yet, Captain; but he's following the track of the laser designator, so it should be only a matter of time..."

"Time we don't have. What about Sophia?"

"Still refueling and rearming."

Murrue cursed to herself. _We've come all the way to Earth, survived the sacrifice of the Eighth Fleet, and avoided burning up on reentry, only to be swarmed under by the Desert Tiger and his BuCUEs. There must be _something_ that can be done about this!_

"Ma'am, the Strike is..."

Mir didn't have to finish her report. Murrue could see for herself that the Strike had one BuCUE in front, one behind, both ready to rip into him; and according to telemetry, his power levels were dangerously low.

"Ready the Gottfrieds," she said at last. Ignoring Natarle's sharp intake of breath, she continued, "I know it's a risk, but if we aim carefully, the Strike should be fine. Besides... we don't have any other choice."

* * *

Libyan Desert

* * *

Murrue's drastic action proved to be needless. Realizing himself the odds against him -and what would happen to the _Archangel_ if he was defeated here- the pressure finally reached the breaking point in Kira's mind. Behind his eyes, an amethyst seed burst, and the result -as far as the BuCUEs were concerned- was utter chaos. 

The Strike ducked as the pair of desert-adapted machines lunged for him at the same moment, then rolled aside as the BuCUEs collided in midair, falling in a tangling heap of metal limbs. He jumped back anther dozen meters, and raised the Agni.

"Take this!" Kira shouted, and fired the powerful energy weapon. Blast after blast poured from its muzzle, creating a tremendous flare of light and coherent energy, utterly annihilating the BuCUEs; not even a scrap was left when the light faded.

Unfortunately, the light wasn't the only thing that faded. In his anger and determination, Kira had used far more energy than he should have, and the Strike's Phase-shift went down... along with his weapons.

And Raptor was still beset by five BuCUEs.

* * *

Waltfeld's eyebrows had both gone up nearly to his hairline. "Incredible," he whispered. "One mobile suit did all that..." 

DaCosta was similarly stunned. "He's fast..."

"But he miscalculated," the Tiger murmured, coming to grips with the sight. "He took out those two, but DiFalco still has five going after _him;_ he may have won the battle but lost the war, if you know what I mean." He smiled to himself. "Okay, Commander, try and find a way out of _this_ jam... if you can." Personally, Waltfeld wasn't convinced that even the great Grimaldi Falcon could fight his way out of the situation he found himself in now; especially when his power levels were almost as low as the Strike's.

DaCosta concurred with his commander's silent assessment. "Based on what we know of those machines," he commented, "and the energy he's expended so far, Raptor only has ten seconds of Phase-shift and weapon power left." He started to smile. "I think we may have won, sir."

The smile never finished.

* * *

Falcon cursed his inexperience. Had this been a space battle, the ZAFT pilots would have been little better than clay pigeons as far as he was concerned; but in a gravity well, he was fatally out of his depth. 

Seconds seemed to take hours, as the enemy prepared to attack him, and he tightly gripped his controls. _And so it ends,_ he thought, feeling almost detached. _I hope Sparky can finish the rest; because my time is up. I guess I'll never return to the PLANTs, after all..._

Then, from the depths of his memory, Falcon heard a voice.

"Get out of here, Falcon, before it's too late! There's nothing more you can do..." A cough. "That nuke's about to hit, and I'm not getting out of here. You've got to make it... and make sure this never happens again. Don't let our -my- sacrifice have been in vain..."

The five BuCUEs came at him from five different angles, and the pressure in the deep reaches of Falcon's psyche built to the point where it burst.

Behind the eye of the Grimaldi Falcon, a Prussian blue seed exploded as though it were a nuclear device.

To the astonishment of all watching, Raptor suddenly bent toward the ground, pointed rifle and beam cannons at the desert floor, and deployed all four Death Blossoms. Then all seven energy weapons fired at once... into the ground.

The resulting shockwave blew the BuCUEs backwards, even as a tremendous flare of green light obscured Raptor from view. They landed on their backs, just outside the column of green fire... and then blades of scarlet fire stabbed out of two points in the circle and began to whirl around.

The circle of scarlet flame they formed became a tornado, ripping through the fallen BuCUEs as it shot straight up into the air; they went soaring even farther away, literally flying to pieces as they went. Blue metal filled the air like chaff.

And then, emerging at the top of the fading column of light, Raptor spread its arm wide, holding the now-ignited beam sabers at arm's length to either side; and the inhuman, ascending wail of the peregrine falcon echoed over the radio and across the desert.

* * *

The resistance fighters' vehicles had arrived shortly before the Strike made its final assault, but, despite their original intentions, they never opened fire. 

Instead, they stared in disbelief at what had just occurred. _How is that... possible?_ Cagalli wondered, dumbstruck. _If the machines Morgenroete built for the Earth Forces can do something like _that..._ ZAFT doesn't stand a chance. And neither does Orb, if the Alliance gets pushy._

That thought would have worried her more if she hadn't had the suspicion that the Raptor _shouldn't_ have been able to do what it had just done. The specs Falcon had shown her at Heliopolis -which even now she believed to be genuine- indicated that such a maneuver would be possible only for a truly exceptional pilot... and would put tremendous stress on the machine's frame.

Since the Earth Forces didn't _have_ any pilots of that one's caliber -she was not yet aware of just who the pilot _was-_ and wouldn't want to risk their machines to such an extent, even if they did, it probably wasn't as bad as one would think from what she'd just witnessed.

But seeing such a thing was still almost a... profound experience.

_That's got to be DiFalco,_ Cagalli thought, gazing at the machine; as she watched, its Phase-shift finally went down, and its beam sabers vanished into their hilts._ I never heard of anybody else pulling anything like that; and I remember the stories of the Bloody Valentine._

"Cagalli," Sahib called, breaking into her thoughts. "I think perhaps it's time we went over to talk to these people; what do you think?"

She nodded, still feeling a little shell-shocked. "Uh, yeah..." The battle was clearly over, after all. _And besides... if DiFalco... if _Falcon_ was right about that ship being willing to work with us, we could end this stalemate with the Desert Tiger a lot faster than we thought possible..._

* * *

Martin DaCosta gaped at the scene before him; and even Andrew Waltfeld was taken aback by the spectacular event that had left afterimages in his eyes. "Commander..." 

"I know," Waltfeld replied, staring at the now-powerless Raptor. "I'd heard the stories about Junius Seven... but even I never expected him to pull a stunt like _that_. According to the information Zala and the others brought back from Heliopolis, that move must have stressed Raptor to its limits; not to mention pulling enough G forces to knock a normal man unconscious."

"What do we do now, Sir?" DaCosta asked.

"We retreat," the Tiger said wearily. "No choice, with all our BuCUEs _and_ helicopters gone. All we could do now is throw rocks, and I think those two mobile suits could hold _that_ off even without Phase-shift." He shook his head. "Well, at least we learned something; but now it's time to return to base. There's nothing more we can do here right now."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Commander La Flaga is returning, Captain," Mir reported, still sounding mildly stunned. "He located the ZAFT ship, and confirmed it to be the land battleship _Lesseps,_ but says it would be unwise to engage at this time. The ship is heavily defended." 

"Tell him we acknowledge," Murrue replied absently. "Also inform him that there are no longer any enemy forces at our location."

"Yes, Ma'am." Mir paused. "Uh, what do I tell him happened, if he asks?"

"Tell him he'll have to see the battle data for himself... and that he probably won't believe it any more than we do."

"Understood."

"What the _blazes_ was that flash?" Sophia demanded, stepping onto the Bridge. "What happened out there? I'm busy refueling, and then there's this bright flash from outside the ship, and Chief Murdoch tells me not to bother heading out again, and- What in the _world?_" She stared at the main display. "Would somebody mind telling me where all those BuCUEs went?"

Natarle cleared her throat. "The Strike vaporized two of them with the Agni, and then Raptor... took care of the other five..."

"How?" the pilot demanded.

In answer, Murrue punched up visual records from the last few moments of battle. "Take a look; maybe you can make more sense of that than the rest of us."

Sophia watched it in silence; but her increasingly-slack jaw told the tale of her surprise. "That's incredible," she whispered. "And what's more incredible, he did it without shaking Raptor to pieces..." _Hyper Berserker..._

"We've got a message coming in, Captain," Kuzzey called. "From that group of vehicles that arrived just before... whatever just happened. Their leader wants to speak with you; he says Commander DiFalco suggested a conference might be in order."

Murrue turned, finally distracted from the battle's spectacular end. "Well," she said slowly, "that explains why Falcon was late; he must have been setting up a meeting." She glanced at the two other officers present on the Bridge. "What do you two think?"

Natarle thought for a moment. "It might be worth looking into," she said finally. "I wouldn't recommend trusting them too far at this point, but if Commander DiFalco says it's a good idea... I'd be inclined to trust his judgment."

"Concur," Sophia agreed. "My brother didn't get his reputation for nothing. This might not turn out to be of any use... but on the other hand, it might." She nodded at the BuCUE remnants out beyond the ship. "Besides, if we've got the Desert Tiger after us, we could use all the help we can get."

"All right." Murrue turned back to the forward viewport. "As soon as Commander La Flaga has returned, we'll go see just what Falcon has been up to."

With luck, our chances of reaching Alaska just went up.

* * *

Author's note: Andrew Waltfeld's BuCUEs have met the _Archangel_'s forces, and been annihilated; in part by Falcon's unexpected demonstration of sheer skill. Now, the resistance fighters have entered the equation… and the seeds of Raptor's ultimate end have been sown… 

Ominae, if, by "possible flame", you mean the girl from Falcon's photograph… let's just say you're on the right track, in a manner of speaking.

Infinite Freedom, I understand now what you meant; but the only time there would be any point to Tempest using an underwater mobile suit against the _Archangel_ would be during their journey across the Red Sea and Indian Ocean. If you'll recall, the _original_ Forbidden hasn't yet been deployed at that point, so I highly doubt the Blue variant -or the Deep, for that matter- would be developed at that point. No, I have… other plans for Huckebein the Raven.

As you can see from this last chapter, the Death Blossoms _do_ have atmospheric capability, but Falcon won't be using them very much, because of the amount of power required to keep something with no lift characteristics airborne.

Yes, the Preybird will have the twin satellite cannon; having rad up on Gundam X over the last week or so, I find it a most intriguing idea, so the machine _will_ have it. (Matter of fact, I kinda wish I'd thought up the Preybird for use in A Call to Arms; the thought of what Kevin Walker might do with it… or the Gundam Double X, for that matter; but I imagine people probably wouldn't be pleased if I gave him another existing machine, instead of an original one for a change.)

You guessed right about Tempest's next machine, as it happens; but as to the Dreadnought, I honestly haven't decided yet. From what I've read of it, that's certainly a possibility, but I have no idea at this point what it will actually be. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to think about it.

Deathzealot, I hadn't thought of giving Mu's Skygrasper a custom paint job, but now that you mention it… it's something to think about, for sure. (Thanks for sending me that link, by the way; I just might have to check that out.)

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, let me simply say that your guess is on the right track. As with many other things, I already have just the scene planned out for it…

Guy that demands Astrays, thanks for reviewing… but I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about. Unless my memory is _extremely_ faulty, there were quite a few Astrays in the series; unless you're talking about the three prototypes. If the latter, I will say that Lowe Guele -or however his name is spelled- will be appearing at some point; for one thing, he'll have a small contribution to Falcon's next machine.

Rau Le Creuset 88, thanks for the suggestion; I'd noticed that particular GINN variant before, but MAHQ's entry doesn't have any details about it. Sounds like the perfect machine for Tempest to use during the journey to Orb, assuming it's in production by then (of course, I'm not sure the DEEP Arms was in production by the time I had it appear, but did it anyway, so I guess it doesn't really matter).

I'm pleased you like the character, by the way; though I'm sure you know that Falcon _is_ going to kill him one of these days. And not in a mobile suit…

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, as you probably expected they did not remain safe for long; and, of course, there'll be another battle before too long…

NukeDawg, glad to see you're able to review again; I get the distinct feeling I'll be reviewing _yours_ again before too long, since I had a story alert when I logged on.

Anyway, as I said before I won't give any details about pairings at this point, but I will mention you were at least partly correct in what you said there (I won't say _which_ part, of course).

A Call to Arms should be up within a few months; if I could find out exactly when Destiny is going to reach the States, I'd be able to give a more exact timeframe, but for now I'll simply say that it'll be up at the earliest possible moment.

Ninofchaos, I'll confess I'm not familiar with the Gundam SEED novel; but I suppose I'll know a certain amount about it soon enough. I'll keep an eye out; and, as always, thanks for reviewing.

Warp Ligia Obscura, I think I can safely predict that this will outdo Brothers in Arms in terms of reviews; Birds of a Feather has considerably more than Brothers in Arms had at this point, and it'll also have more chapters than my last story did (though I suspect I'd have gotten more reviews for it, too, if I hadn't been updating every other night; I suppose people didn't have time to review one chapter before the next was posted).

Now, it seems to me that ZAFT wouldn't exactly need good intelligence to know that Falcon was on the _Archangel._ I mean, he hasn't exactly made a secret of it, what with him arguing with various pilots and uttering his trademark scream all over the place. For ZAFT not to mention that to Andy Waltfeld would be… peculiar.

As for Flay, you should remember her own words in Phase 15: about how Kira was going to fight and fight and fight until he died. In my opinion, while she's not truly evil -just mentally unbalanced, and who can blame her after she watched her father get blown to tiny pieces- she's quite capable of arranging someone's demise, assuming she could figure out how. Given that Falcon seems very likely to interfere with her manipulation of Kira, I daresay she'd want him out of the way.

Yes, Mir _is_ turning up a lot, isn't she? Yeah, you might say I've got plans… though they may be a little different from what people are expecting…

Falcon certainly does know a lot of people; makes sense, when you consider that he used to be a ZAFT pilot, and much more important than his official title would indicate. On the other hand, there are a few people Kevin Walker knows that he wouldn't -in Orb, for example.

Yeah, Tempest is still around; but that's basically because I have a much more dramatic end to him in mind, which won't occur for quite a while yet.

You're not the only one doubting Tolle's survival, I see. Hmm… perhaps there's a reason for that…

True, Kevin Walker's origins have been revealed; but I you'll notice that I never really went into day-to-day life within the ABADDON Project. In A Call to Arms, more of those details will be laid out, as well as the histories of a couple other Destroyers.

Believe me, I _am_ pleased that I get so many reviews. I never expected my work to be this popular, especially after my fairly dismal early efforts.

Knightowl, thanks for reviewing; if memory serves, you also reviewed Brothers in Arms a time or two, so welcome to the new story.

I actually haven't played Never Ending Tomorrow yet, but that's only lack of opportunity. I have every intention of trying it; and personally, I don't put much stock in the bad reviews I've seen it get from professional reviewers. I find myself disagreeing with such people more and more of late, anyway.

I think I know the site you're talking about; or so I judge from the fact that those mission descriptions look very familiar. If its GameFAQs, then I already know it; handy site, too.

Centurious, as mentioned earlier in the notes, I don't really think Flay's being more evil than usual in this story; and I don't think that's truly "evil" at all. She's just a little off in the head, as demonstrated by, among her things, her mistaking Le Creuset for her father, at Alaska. In any case, Falcon will be causing her problems, indeed…

I guess that's everything; another hour and twelve hundred words devoted to author's notes. Figures. Well, let me know how it was. -Solid Shark


	14. Chapter 14: Alliance in the Desert

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Libyan Desert

* * *

In the cockpit of GAT-X107 Raptor, Earth Forces Commander Ken "Falcon" DiFalco groggily raised his head. "Ugh," he grunted, trying to focus his eye; he absently noted that the sun had risen sometime between his losing consciousness and awakening inside the powered-down machine. 

_What happened?_ Falcon wondered. He vaguely remembered a battle, and a brief, biting argument with Kira; then, at some point, he'd been cornered by BuCUEs...

"Don't let our -my- sacrifice have been in vain..."

Remembering those words brought everything back into focus for the one-eyed pilot. _Right... Kira and I got cornered, then Kira blasted two BuCUEs to vapor; and I went Berserker myself. Explains why I was out for awhile..._

For most people, Falcon knew, the Berserker state merely left them a little tired. For him, though, it tended to knock him unconscious once the danger was past, as well as producing brief problems with his short-term memory. That explained why his head was just a little fuzzy when he finally came to.

It occurred to him about then that he should probably tell the _Archangel_ that he was still in the land of the living. "Hey, Miriallia," he called, keying his radio. "This is Falcon; is everything all right over there?"

Mir's face appeared on his monitor. _"Falcon," _she responded, clearly relieved. _"We were getting a little worried; Commander DiFalco -uh, the _other _Commander DiFalco- was about to send out a search party."_

"Not necessary," he said with the ghost of a smile. "But tell her I appreciate the sentiment. So what's the situation with _Archangel?"_

_"Fine, for now."_ She smiled._ "You and Kira made sure of that; by the time you two were finished, there weren't any enemy forces left to retreat. Right now,"_ Mir went on,_ "the Captain is getting ready to meet with those resistance fighters."_

"Resistance fighters?" Falcon frowned, then remembered. "Oh, yes; so they decided to come after all. I guess they just didn't get here in time to participate in the battle."

_"Looks that way; by the time _you_ were through, nobody was in any shape to fight at all."_ She paused._ "Captain Ramius requests that you return to the ship as soon as possible, so that you can accompany her and Commander La Flaga to the meeting with the guerillas; and Chief Murdoch and your sister want to look over the Raptor ASAP, as well. They seem to think it may be damaged."_ She shrugged, confused._ "But I thought you weren't hit."_

"I wasn't; but I probably over-stressed the frame." He looked almost sheepish for an instant. "I don't think G-weapons are supposed to be able to pull maneuvers like that, or so I remember from the specs I hacked out of the Morgenroete database at Heliopolis." Falcon unsnapped the power cable from its socket on the instrument panel, and began to unstrap. "Tell Murrue I'll be right there; and inform Chief Murdoch that he'll have to get Raptor back aboard manually again."

_"Got it, Falcon."_ Mir chuckled._ "But you know, I don't think Chief Murdoch and his people are going to be very happy about having to do that _again_; they're still complaining about the sand they had to clean out of the joints last time."_

"Well, you can tell them it shouldn't be so bad this time." He finished unstrapping, and reached for the hatch controls. "Falcon out."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"We have confirmation from Commander DiFalco," Mir reported. "He'll be returning shortly." 

Murrue nodded. "Good; I'll want his input when we meet with this 'Desert Dawn' group. He's proven insightful in the past... and besides, I want to know just what he was up to, setting up this meeting in the first place."

"Another part of his grand design," Sophia opined. "Come on, Murrue, you know he never does anything without a reason; he probably got a look at their equipment, and figured they might be helpful in getting us past the Desert Tiger. Or," she added, after a moment's thought, "maybe it has something to do with his overall scheme -whatever _that_ is- and we'll never know about it... at least not for a few months yet."

Natarle raised an eyebrow. "Makes long plans, does he?"

"Come on, Lieutenant, you should know that by now." _If you don't, then you haven't been paying attention._

"True," the lieutenant acknowledged. "Otherwise, I suppose he wouldn't even be here in the first place, would he?"

"Actually," Murrue mused, "I think that if everything had gone according to his plans, he _wouldn't_ be here; but that's neither here nor there."

"Not exactly relevant to the current situation," Sophia agreed. "Well, I guess we wait for Falcon to get back, then go see what's up."

About ten minutes later, Falcon appeared on the Bridge, looking weary, yet almost relaxed. "Reporting as requested, Captain," he said, saluting.

"Since when do you call me 'Captain'?" Murrue questioned. "Anyway, before we go out there, I'd like to know just what you told those people." She gave him a hard look. "Nothing too sensitive, I'd hope; nothing that they could have provided the Desert Tiger, thus leading to this last attack?"

Had there been an expression on his face, it probably would have been one of scorn. "Come now, Murrue. First of all, I'm not in the habit of giving the enemy any more of an advantage than I could help. And second, everything I told them they could have found out for themselves; and Commander Waltfeld's attack _certainly_ wasn't prompted by anything I told the Desert Dawn."

"How can you be sure?" Natarle asked skeptically.

Falcon glanced at her. "Lieutenant, the Desert Dawn, at the time the attack was launched, had no idea as to _Archangel_'s exact location. Andy Waltfeld's attack force, on the other hand, clearly knew _exactly_ where they were going; and, for that matter, those BuCUEs were probably sent _before_ I made contact with the resistance fighters." He tilted his head. "Any other questions?"

"No, Falcon; sorry," Murrue apologized. "We shouldn't have doubted you. Anyway, I'll try to keep this first meeting fairly short; I'm sure you'll be wanting to get some sleep as soon as you can, after everything that's happened."

"I'd appreciate it," he replied. "I haven't slept since before the battle in orbit."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "And you said _Kira_ was in no shape to fly out there? Might this be a case of the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Possibly." Falcon glanced at the Bridge hatch. "Now, why don't we get to an airlock, go out there, and get this over with?"

* * *

_Archangel,_ Main Airlock

* * *

The trio of _Archangel_ officers -Murrue, Falcon, and Sophia- met up with Mu on the way to the outer hatch; he was, at that moment, checking the chamber of a standard Earth Forces-issue autopistol. "I gotta tell you," he remarked, "that these guerillas look a little shady to me." 

Falcon shrugged. "What do you expect? We can either trust them, or we can't; fortunately, we're in a position of strength if we can't."

"Hm. True; but," Mu went on, looking over at Murrue, "I should probably warn you that I'm not too 'good' in these... sticky situations."

She smiled. "We may need that; but let's reserve judgment for now, shall we, and wait on shooting at them until we have to."

"If you insist." They reached the hatch, and the Hawk waved a hand. "After you, Falcon; after all, it's _your_ crazy idea."

The ace walked past the two, and paused. "And," he commented, "if it goes wrong, _I'll_ be the one who gets shot first?"

Mu grinned. "Yeah, something like that." Despite the banter, of course, he didn't want anything of the sort to happen; they _were_ brothers, after all, and the Hawk of Endymion had taken a liking to his erstwhile nemesis.

Not to mention the fact that he didn't _expect_ anything like that to happen. He'd seen what Falcon did with a beam saber, and suspected he could use his katana against bullets in a similar fashion...

* * *

Libyan Desert

* * *

Sahib Ashman was waiting when the _Archangel_ contingent finally emerged into the harsh sunlight. _It's about time,_ he thought to himself. _But I suppose it couldn't be helped; if they wanted DiFalco in on this, they had to wait until he was available..._ The stunt the man's machine had pulled in the last battle was still something he found difficult to believe had actually happened, despite seeing it with his own eyes. Taken individually, the actions were not that remarkable; but done in such quick succession, fluidly going from one move to the next, and in such a short span of time... Not to mention the fact that a normal man would have blacked out in the middle of it. 

"So," he said, when the Earth Forces officers came near, "we meet at last." He glanced at each in turn. "I already know Commander DiFalco's identity; and you are...?"

"Captain Murrue Ramius," Murrue replied, "commanding officer of the Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel._ We're with the Eighth Fleet."

Ahmed made a skeptical sound. "The Eighth Fleet? How is that possible? I thought they were wiped out by the enemy..."

Sahib shot him a quelling look. "According to Commander DiFalco, you came here by accident; from what other sources tell us, it was the Le Creuset team that forced you to make a... precipitous departure from orbit." He looked up at the Strike. "And that machine of yours..."

"It's the X105 Strike," Cagalli supplied, glancing briefly at Falcon. "That's what they call that thing; it's one of the Earth Forces' new mobile weapons."

Murrue looked at her, surprised, and shot a glance at Falcon. _So _this_ is the "friend" for whom you hacked the data, isn't she? I see now why you were a bit more open with them than you might otherwise have been._

Ashman ignored the brief interplay. "As I mentioned when I requested this meeting, our group is called the Desert Dawn. I go by the name of Sahib Ashman. What _we_ are attempting to do -and the reason I believe this discussion has potential merit for the both of us- is drive ZAFT out of this region."

Mu raised an eyebrow. "You resistance fighters against Andy 'Desert Tiger' Waltfeld, huh? Been fighting for awhile?"

Sahib gave him a closer look. "You seem familiar, Commander, but I cannot say how, or from where."

"He's Mu La Flaga," Sophia supplied. "And as far as I know, he's never been here, and doesn't know anybody from around here."

"The Hawk of Endymion?" He nodded in respect. "This is about the last place I would have expected to meet you, of all people." He looked back at Sophia. "You, on the other hand... I don't recognize you, yet somehow it doesn't seem at all strange that you would be here."

She smiled. "Probably because I was at El Alamein, among other places." The pilot raised her hand in a salute. "My name is Sophia DiFalco; and, unlike my brother the ZAFT ace, I'm an _Earth Forces_ ace. Some people call me Kestrel."

"The Victorian Kestrel?" Sahib nodded slowly. "This may be a fortuitous meeting indeed, Captain Ramius; you seem to have quite the collection of pilots on your ship; and quite the ship, as well." He stroked his beard. "Now that you've landed in this place -which I suspect is rather inconvenient for you- I must say that I'm curious as to just what you plan to do."

Murrue glanced at Falcon, but got no help from that direction; he merely gazed back at her, impassive. "Can we count on your cooperation?"

The resistance leader smiled, with a knowing glance toward the _Archangel_'s hatch; where, of course, several armed guards waited, as a precaution. "If you really want to talk, maybe you should put away your guns," he suggested easily. "And the Strike's pilot should come down here, as well."

The Captain considered that. She was well aware of what Natarle's suggestion would be -give them some of what they wanted, but at least leave Kira in the Strike as insurance- but in this case, she felt the safest move would not necessarily be the wisest.

Besides, she suspected Falcon, though he was by no means a ground soldier, could at least buy them enough time to return to the _Archangel,_ if it came to that.

"Very well," she said at last. "Ensign Yamato," she called, "come down here!"

* * *

Kira heard the order, and immediately began to unstrap. _Why do I think Falcon had something to do with this?_ the pilot wondered. _Probably because he has something to do with everything._ He'd heard that, during the previous year, it had become an axiom among Earth Forces pilots that wherever there was trouble, the Grimaldi Falcon would be in the middle of it to make it even worse. 

Thinking of the more experienced pilot -who was now recognized among the _Archangel_'s crew as his mentor- Kira winced. After his night with Flay -which hadn't gone _quite_ as far as Flay would probably have liked; Kira was having his share of problems, especially after failing to save that shuttle of refugees, but he wasn't so depressed as to seek _that_ sort of comfort- he suspected he and Falcon were going to be having an... interesting discussion soon. The ace clearly didn't like Flay very much, for one thing; and for another, his philosophy was very much at odds with what Flay had been telling him.

_Well,_ he told himself, reaching for the hatch controls,_ just remember what Falcon always says: make your own decisions, and don't let anyone tell you what they should be. I'll listen to what both of them have to say, and decide for myself which of them is right. Maybe both are, in their own ways..._

Kira opened the hatch, and grabbed the zip line to lower himself to the desert floor.

* * *

Cagalli watched the flightsuited pilot descend form his machine, and wondered who he might be. Was he another Coordinator, like DiFalco, or had the ace come up with an Operating System that would allow a Natural to fly the machine with ease? 

She had not the slightest idea that she was about to see a familiar face.

The pilot's feet came to rest on the sand, and he walked toward the resistance fighters. He seemed tired, which was understandable, under the circumstances, but he moved with the confidence one would expect from a pilot who had just annihilated several BuCUEs all by himself, and was reputedly the Grimaldi Falcon's protégé.

Then he reached up, and pulled off his helmet.

Cagalli stared at him for several moments, frowning, as she tried to remember where she'd seen that face before. _Wait a minute... that's the guy from Heliopolis!_

Her face set, feeling angry for no reason she could fathom, the blonde-haired girl ran over to the Earth Forces pilot. "So it's _you,"_ she said harshly, stopping a meter from him. "What's someone like _you_ doing _here?"_ she demanded.

Kira, for his part, was utterly bemused. _Who's this, and why is she angry at me?_ That question became even more pertinent when the girl threw a punch at him.

He caught it with ease; he was, after all, a Coordinator, and the punch obviously unplanned. But the violent reaction served to remind him where _he_ had seen _her_ before. "That's right," Kira said finally. "We met back at Morgenroete, didn't we?"

The recognition didn't mollify Cagalli at all. Instead, she got even angrier than before. "Let go of me, you jerk!" she snarled, and wrenched her hand free, whacking Kira in the face in the process.

The other resistance fighters and _Archangel_ officers were even more in the dark about the situation than Kira had been at first... except, of course, for Falcon. _Hmm. Not quite the reaction I'd have expected, but I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense..._

"Cagalli!" Sahib called sharply; he didn't know what was going on, but he didn't think relations with the _Archangel_ would be improved if the resistance fighters went around punching members of the ship's crew in the face.

Reluctantly, after another glare at Kira, Cagalli turned away, and walked back to the rest of the Desert Dawn. When she reached them, though, she spoke in a low voice to Ashman. "I think we should hear what they have to say, Sahib, but this isn't the place. We can trust them, I think, so we should bring them back to the base."

The leader nodded. "Very well." He turned to confer again with Murrue.

Falcon slipped into the group then. "Did you actually have a _reason_ for hitting my friend there?" he asked Cagalli, speaking very quietly. "Or were you just blowing off steam?"

"What's it matter to _you?"_ she demanded.

"First of all, he saved your life, back at Heliopolis; something which I'd think you'd be grateful for. Second, he happens to be a friend of mine, and while I have my own problems with him right now, I'd suggest you not go around hitting my pilots."

Cagalli gave him a derisive look. "Anytime you want to try to do something about it, DiFalco, go right ahead. You might find yourself with more of a fight than you bargained for."

Falcon closed his eye. "I didn't say I was looking for a fight; and I'd appreciate it if you not call me that. Contrary to popular belief, DiFalco isn't even my name."

She looked at him again, puzzled. "Huh?" _What does _that_ have to do with anything?_ "Why tell me?"

"Because I find discussions go more smoothly when all the cards are on the table. And besides... you might be more circumspect if you knew that my real name is La Flaga."

Cagalli blinked in surprise. "What? You mean...?"

Falcon nodded. "Yeah; Mu happens to be my brother. So I suggest you keep in mind the fact that if you go after one of us, you go after both of us." He turned away. "But I don't expect it to come to that; after all, enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?"

She didn't have an answer for that.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Now that the _Archangel_ had begun its journey toward the Desert Dawn's base, Murdoch had requested Sophia's presence in the hangar; now she entered, still in full flight gear. "What's up, Chief?" 

The mechanic waved a hand at Raptor. "Thought you might want to know how your brother's machine is doing; especially after that last battle. I've been going over it ever since, and I gotta tell you, I'm finding it hard to believe the shape it's in."

She frowned. "That bad, huh?"

Murdoch shook his head. "It's not that it's bad -though it ain't _good,_ either- it's that it's _weird._ C'mon, take a look for yourself."

Sophia followed him over to the dormant mobile suit. "What am I looking at, Chief? What do you mean by 'weird'?"

He pointed at Raptor's frame; the leg, specifically, but only because it was nearest to their level. "That."

She looked at Murdoch, then at the mobile suit, and back at Murdoch. "Again, with a little explanation, please. Just what am I looking at? All I see is the machine; no damage, not even any scratched paint. So what's the problem?"

Murdoch handed her a diagnostic tool. "Take a look through that, at high magnification."

Puzzled, Sophia did so; and then her eyebrows went up in surprise. "The frame is... cracked," she said slowly. "There's fatigue cracks in the armor here..."

"Not just here." He nodded up at the Raptor. "My boys and I looked over it, and the whole machine is like that. At least a decade's worth of wear and tear after just a few battles."

She looked at him sharply. "You think it's from that stunt Falcon pulled at the end there, when he blew up all those BuCUEs?"

"That's part of it," he concurred. "You _could_ pull that off without undue stress to the frame; but not when you're pulling it off in fractions of seconds, like he did. Not to mention the energy flare when he fired all his guns point-blank into the ground. But no, actually, it's _not_ just that battle." He shook his head slowly. "Commander, I've studied that CGUE of his, too, and it's just the same: a lot more stress has been put on it then I'd have thought possible... and the Strike _isn't_ like that. There's only one conclusion I can draw from it, Ma'am."

"And that is?"

"Standard mobile suit frames can't keep up with him," Murdoch said simply. "His piloting -his _normal_ piloting- is so fast, he stresses the things beyond their limits. Now, with an ordinary pilot, that isn't a problem; a mobile suit -or aircraft- can't react any faster than the pilot, and there's only so fast most pilots can react. Look at Commander La Flaga, for example. He's fast, but it's within his mobile armor's tolerances. Same for Kira and the Strike. But your brother... I think he's a little different from other people, at least when he's in the cockpit."

Sophia nodded slowly. _Der Schreckick Eins,_ she thought. _The Terrible One... soldier genes... it looks like Doctor Metzinger's experiment was a success..._ "So what does this mean for Raptor, Chief?" she said aloud. "Can it hold up to the demands being placed on it?" She was pretty sure she knew the answer -she'd started out as an engineer, after all- but she wanted a second opinion.

"It'll hold up," Murdoch answered, "for now. But one of these days -and probably not too far in the future- it's just going to pack up on him in the middle of combat, and fall apart. About the only warning he'll have is the _crack_ when pieces start falling off."

"Ouch." She winced, and didn't bother asking him if he was certain it would occur in combat. _There's no other time it _could;_ and when it does, it could be a disaster... no, it _will_ be a disaster._ "Well, at least he has the CGUE to fall back on, if he has to."

"Yeah." The mechanic grinned. "Top of the line ZAFT model, all the latest bells and whistles -at least, latest as of his desertion. But I've looked at that particle cannon, and the laser sword he liberated from Huckebein, and I think it could hold its own against the captured G-weapons, if it had to; at least for awhile."

"Glad to hear it." Sophia looked back at the dormant Raptor. _Huh; of all the ways I thought you might be destroyed, my deadly creation, I never thought it might be because your pilot was too good at his job... which reminds me..._ She glanced at Murdoch again. "By the way, Chief, do you have any idea what that power cable is for? The one he hooks up to his machine's powerplant?"

The mechanic shrugged. "I have no idea, Commander. I've seen it, sure -kinda hard to miss when it's dangling off his flightsuit all the time- but I can't figure out what it's for. All I know is that it's part of his preflight checklist, and he gets cranky whenever people ask him about it. Something about his eyes..."

"Eye," she corrected. "You mean eye, singular, don't you?"

"Well, yeah... but that eyepatch gives me the creeps, too." Murdoch shrugged. "I dunno; maybe it's just me... but I think he likes it that way." He glanced at her sidelong. "By the way, you got any idea how he lost the eye in the first place?"

"Beats me," Sophia replied. "We may be getting along a little better now, but you know he never tells me anything. Best guess is that he lost it in his duel with Victor Tempest; I'm pretty sure he cost _Tempest_ at least an eye, and maybe fingers, too. All I know is, he won't talk about it except to say that apparently he didn't kill Tempest quite as dead as he thought."

"Huh. Explains why the guy keeps trying to blow us up." The mechanic scratched his head. "Well, Commander, I'd better get back to fixing Raptor; you never know when _this_ ship might be attacked."

"Don't I know it. Well, see you later, Chief; I need to get out of this flightsuit." Normally, Earth Forces flightsuits were quite comfortable; but Sophia had spent the last several hours cooped up in this one, and she wanted out of it as soon as possible.

* * *

Gibraltar Base, Strait of Gibraltar

* * *

_"I'm glad to see you made it safe and sound,"_ Le Creuset said on the monitor._ "That was a pretty tough battle you two went through."_

"Nearly ended up in a body bag," Dearka Elsman agreed; he lounged in a chair in the base's comm room. "Could have been worse, though."

_"Yes, I'm sure. I'm afraid that you're going to be stuck there a while longer, though,"_ the masked commander went on apologetically._ "There are currently no plans to bring you back to space; it seems Command thinks you may be of more use to the war right where you are."_ He shrugged._ "For now, I suppose you're on standby; but of course, if you get a shot at the legged ship, go right ahead and take it out."_

"Got it, Commander." Dearka paused. "By the way, sir, any word on Commander Huckebein's intentions?"

Le Creuset grimaced in distaste. _"Apparently, he's planning to head for Earth himself soon; and Committee Chairman Zala concurs. When he arrives, he'll be assigned one of the new LaGOWE units; but, as he's going to the African Community, he should at least be out of _your_ hair."_

"That's a relief, at least." One of the few things held in common by all four G-pilots under Le Creuset's command was a distaste for Huckebein; and, as their commander shared it himself, none of them bothered hiding it. "Is there anything else, sir?"

_"No, that's it for now. Good luck, to both of you."_ Le Creuset's image winked out.

Dearka shot his heretofore silent companion a look of disgust. "We're to remain on Earth? Work with the Gibraltar forces? Ugh. Well, at least we might be able to finally take down the legged ship." Personal feelings about one of the ship's pilots aside, he would be more than happy to blow _Archangel_ sky high.

Yzak Joule didn't respond at once. Instead, he continued staring at the wall, brooding; then reached up for the bandages covering the upper right side of his face.

"Hey, Yzak, cut it out!" Dearka protested, when the white-haired pilot began to remove the coverings. "You shouldn't-!"

Yzak ignored him, and finally tossed off the bandages; underneath was quite healed, if scarred, skin. "That legged ship's going down all right," he hissed. "And _I'll_ be the one to do it!"

His comrade's obsession was beginning to disturb the blonde-haired pilot a little. Eagerness to go after the enemy was one thing; this was something else. It could easily make him reckless, enough so to get him killed. The Strike pilot had already demonstrated the willingness -and capability- to shoot the Duel to pieces.

_Though I suppose _I'm_ one to talk about problems engaging that ship,_ Dearka thought moodily. He'd heard about the new orders regarding Falcon, and he wasn't happy about them; especially since some higher-ups in ZAFT seemed to think that the defector's habit of disarming his opponents would give them an edge in dealing with him. Dearka knew better.

He'd known for years that Falcon was quite capable of killing. He'd been there, the first time, and he'd done his share of the killing that day himself...

It was a bank, in Februarius City; just minutes before, Dearka and Falcon had been there on ordinary business, not expecting anything unusual. Now, the place had been overrun by gunmen, in a classic bank robbery, and they were both being held at gunpoint, hands over their heads.

They exchanged glances. There were only a half-dozen gunmen, and both Falcon and Dearka had some training in hand-to-hand combat, Falcon in particular; and one of the thugs had made the mistake of holding his weapon a little too close to the blonde youth's head.

Falcon raised an eyebrow, and Dearka nodded slightly. They moved.

The martial artist's hands suddenly reached up, grabbed the gun, and used it for leverage to throw the gunman across the room. The now-liberated pistol barked once, killing the man before he could hit the floor.

At the same moment, Dearka shot to his feet, brought his hand down on another gunman's arm, and took his weapon before shooting him in the head. That left four targets, all of them armed, but the two teenagers had surprise on their side.

Falcon shot another, swept his leg into a second's neck, snapping it, and turned toward a third; then he jerked back, crying out as a bullet caught him in the side, and another grazed his neck.

Dearka didn't waste a second. He shot the man who'd fired on his friend, and tossed the gun into the last gunman's temple.

By the time the authorities arrived, it was all over except the bleeding.

No, Dearka did not doubt that Falcon could kill if he had to; but others disagreed, which convinced him that ZAFT pilots were going to be overconfident when dealing with the defector, and they would die.

And he still didn't understand why Falcon had betrayed them in the first place. He'd always _seemed_ sane enough, if a little cold when he went into battle; now it was almost as if he'd lost his mind...

Yzak gave his fellow pilot a questioning look, noticing his continued brooding, but Dearka didn't bother to explain. Under the circumstances, he didn't think the scarred pilot would be terribly sympathetic anymore; not after what the Strike had done to him.

* * *

African Community, Desert Dawn Base

* * *

Falcon, now much more his usual self after being comatose for several hours, glanced about the base to which the Desert Dawn's jeeps had led them. It appeared to consist of several large caves, set within a small canyon; it made for a snug hiding place for the _Archangel,_ but an adequate one. 

Assuming Andy Waltfeld didn't already know the base's location.

_Huh, _he thought, taking note of the cave mouths and the various resistance fighters looking suspiciously at the_ Archangel. To think, last year I would have been fighting these people; now they're our allies, against ZAFT forces. War certainly makes for strange bedfellows, doesn't it, Falcon?_

About then, Falcon realized he was being watched, and minutely turned his head to see a figure in khaki pants and a red t-shirt standing near one of the cave entrances. It was, as he'd thought, the girl he knew as Cagalli Yula; she seemed to be studying him as intently as he was studying the base.

"You know," he said, in a quiet voice pitched to carry, "if you want to know something, you can just ask; the mind-reading act isn't necessary."

Cagalli twitched; she hadn't realized he'd noticed her. "I wasn't- I mean-"

"Relax," he advised her, walking over, trench coat billowing in the wind behind him. "In your place, I'd be just as suspicious of me, even if my leader seemed to trust me. A ZAFT turncoat must be something of a rarity; and there's the old saying that a man who turns his coat once can easily do it again." He raised an eyebrow. "That the kind of thing you're thinking about?"

"Something like that," she admitted, examining his expression; one of the things that was most irritating was that his eyepatch made it difficult to read his face. "Is there some reason why I _should_ trust you?"

"Maybe; maybe not." Falcon glanced over his shoulder, seeing the other officers follow Sahib into the main cave, and debating with himself for a moment. _No,_ he decided finally. _They can do without me for once; it's not like they can't do anything by themselves. I imagine they'd have done quite well if I hadn't turned up at Heliopolis._ "So," he continued aloud. "I suppose you've probably got a few choice words for me; if you do, though, I suggest we find someplace a little more private."

Without waiting for a response, the ace began walking up to higher ground, heading for a spot overlooking the _Archangel;_ Cagalli, after an internal debate of her own, hurried to follow him.

"You're right," she said when they were out of earshot of anyone else. "I _do_ have a few things to say to you; unless you'd rather not hear it."

To her annoyance, the pilot merely looked faintly amused. "Sticks and stones, Miss Yula," he said easily. "I've a rather thicker skin than you might think."

"Oh really?" Cagalli snorted. "Then let me be frank, DiFalco: I don't trust you. I thought, when we first ran into each other on the nets, years ago, that you had the same kind of ideals I do. But someone like that wouldn't have turned his coat as easily as you did."

Falcon's eye narrowed. "You think it was easy, leaving ZAFT behind? You're deluded if you believe that. You've got no idea what this war has cost me, Miss. No idea at all." He rubbed his eyepatch. "And I didn't betray my country; just my organization... and they betrayed _me_ first. Tell me, would _you_ stand by and watch as your comrades went ahead and committed genocide?"

_"If_ something like that were going on in the first place, I'd have worked to change it from within, not shot at my friends!" she retorted.

"Really. And here I thought you didn't like ZAFT in the first place."

"I don't," Cagalli said bluntly. "If I did, I wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't be having this conversation. And if _you_ were the honorable soldier everyone said you were, _you_ wouldn't be here, either."

Falcon tilted his head. "You seem to have a problem with me, Miss Yula," he said evenly, "and I think it goes beyond mere questions of my trustworthiness. Perhaps you'd care to explain?"

She gave him a challenging look. _Fine, if he wants to hear it _that_ badly..._ "You were at Heliopolis," she said finally, glaring. "You were the one who hacked that data out of Morgenroete's computers for me. Are you going to tell me you're not the reason the Le Creuset team got that information? It's too much of a coincidence, if you ask me... which means _you're_ responsible for what happened that day."

Those last words lit the fires deep in Falcon's mind, and anger slowly began to smolder to life. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Miss," he said coldly. "If you had any idea what this war has cost me, you'd understand that I never wanted to be part of it again."

"What you want doesn't matter much, does it?" Cagalli snorted in derision. _"I_ think you gave that data to ZAFT, then decided you'd gotten in over your head, and-"

"Shut up!" he hissed, emotionless mask shattering to pieces. "You've got no idea what you're talking about, silly girl; you've stayed nice and safe in your 'neutral nation' all this time, with no conception at all of what's happening outside your safe little world!"

"Then tell me," she challenged; the "silly girl" remark had gotten to her. "What don't I know that explains how you're on the side of goodness and light here, without any responsibility for-"

"I didn't say I didn't have any responsibility," he snapped. "Believe me, I have plenty. But you don't know what it's like, fighting day after day after day, watching your friends get blown away one by one by those _bastards_ who attacked your homeland because you didn't meet your _quota!_ You've never watched a Cyclops System activate, tearing up and incinerating everything in its path, friend or foe, inexorably reaching out for you until it finally reaches you and blasts your machine into scrap metal! You've never come within _centimeters_ of stopping one of the greatest atrocities in human history, only to lose your home and most of your team because you _missed!"_ He clenched his fists. "I'm from Junius Seven," he said in a harsh whisper, "and it died because of _my_ mistake; and my parents died at Heliopolis. So don't try to tell _me_ about 'responsibility'!" His eye blazed. "And I'm 'taking responsibility' for it now, believe me; I'm the only one with any hope of putting an end to all this, and that's what I'm bloody well going to do."

Cagalli flinched, startled by the violent reaction. _So he _is_ human,_ she thought in a detached way. _You just have to make him very angry to even notice. _Shock mingled with derision, as she thought about what he'd just said. _He's arrogant, that's for sure; he thinks he can stop it all by himself?_

"You're going to stop this war all by yourself?" She nearly laughed at the notion. "Just what makes you think you can do that, anyway? You're just a pilot, acting on your own."

Falcon regained a measure of control. "Acting on my own, am I? 'Just a pilot'? Have you forgotten what I did to your buddy Ahmed last night?"

"No, I haven't." Cagalli smiled thinly. "But that doesn't really say anything about well you do in _fair_ fight, now does it?" _Maybe I should try _beating_ some sense into this guy._

He was now watching her curiously. "There's no such thing as a fair fight," he said quietly. "But if you're challenging me..."

"If you want to take it that way." She stretched. "Just how good _are_ you outside the cockpit?"

_This silly Natural is challenging _me_ to a sparring match? She's out of her mind._ Falcon smiled slowly. "Fine, if that's what you want; I hope you like the taste of sand, though." He unfastened the trench coat, tossed it aside, and set his sword atop it; then unfastened his white officer's tunic, leaving just the more practical t-shirt. "Been awhile since I had a little fun."

Cagalli was surprised by the change in the way he talked and acted; evidently, the ace had decided there was no longer any point in hiding behind a facade, when he'd already blown up at her.

Surprise, however, didn't prevent her from trying to pull a fast one on the pilot. She made the first move, a spinning side kick at his head. A fast move, and one which might have taken another man by surprise; but Falcon caught her ankle with one hand, looking amused.

"I hope that's not your only trick," he said easily -and found out the hard way that it wasn't, when her other foot left the ground and hit against his neck. Combined with the one still in Falcon's grip, the subsequent spinning motion flipped him to the ground in a heap.

"How's that?" Cagalli asked, pulling herself to her feet. "Surprised a 'mere Natural' can do that to you?"

"You've got some skill, I'll grant you that." Falcon slowly stood, spitting sand from his mouth. "I confess I underestimated you; but it won't happen again."

He made the next move, a fast chopping motion with his right hand; but, surprising him even more than her last move, Cagalli caught his wrist, and used the leverage to throw him over her shoulder.

_How did she _do_ that?_ Falcon wondered. "You're fast," he admitted, dragging himself to his feet again. "That'll teach me to take liberties with you. But don't think you've won."

She didn't reply. Instead, she jumped, aiming another side kick at his head; but this time, he wasn't caught unprepared. He ducked sideways, grabbed her leg with both hands, and used the momentum to slam her to the ground.

"That was foolish," the pilot informed her. "Never try the same move twice, or else-"

Cagalli lunged up at him, and the next few moments were a blur of hands and feet... until her boot caught the strap of his eyepatch, pulling it off.

Instantly, Falcon staggered back with a cry of pain, one hand going to cover the area. Moving like a man who'd just suffered a hard blow, he stumbled into the nearest cave, breathing heavily; his face twitched, as though from great pain.

Cagalli, even more stunned by this than by his angry soliloquy, followed him in. "DiFalco?" she said hesitantly, wondering if she'd just done something to him. "Sorry... are you alright?"

"Not your fault," he said through gritted teeth. "You couldn't have known." He spared a moment to curse in what sounded like Gaelic, before continuing, "There are only a handful of people who know about that."

She frowned, confused. "Wha...?"

In answer, Falcon raised his head, lowered his hand... and looked at her through two perfectly-intact eyes.

There was something strange about the left, though. Radiating out from the Prussian blue eye's pupil were silver lines, glowing noticeably in the dim cave; it was like nothing Cagalli had ever seen. "What... what _is_ that?"

"One of my many secrets," he replied, managing a slight chuckle; he was still suffering from the aftereffects of whatever had pained him. "Most people... think I lost the eye when my teammate and student Victor Tempest tried to kill me... but they're wrong. That's where the scar comes from, but the eye -unlike Victor's- was untouched."

"Then why the eyepatch?" Now that she began to understand the kind of stress -and responsibility- Falcon had been living under for so long, Cagalli was a bit gentler in her questioning. "Why wear something like that when you don't have to?"

"For one thing," he pointed out, "the strange appearance tends to disturb people -I mean, how many eyes look like this?- and for another... I _do_ need it."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not surprised." Falcon leaned against the wall. "I might as well tell you; it'll be nice to tell somebody _something_ for once. Those lines you see, they're just the visible part of what I was suspect was deliberate genetic manipulation outside the normal parameters of Coordinator modifications. The true reason I wear the eyepatch is because... the eye can see into the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums."

Cagalli nodded in sudden understanding. "And with all that thermal energy reflected off the sand... it must have been like getting stabbed in the eye."

"That's very much what it felt like," he agreed. "Not the first time it happened, either; my eye began to exhibit these... unusual abilities during my goodwill tour here, last year. It was a _most_ painful experience." He dug into his pocket, pulling out a replacement eyepatch. "This is actually a one-way piece of optical plastic; filters out infrared and ultraviolet, allowing me full use of the eye without getting stabbed in the brain."

"I'm sorry," she said, out of the blue. "I shouldn't have..."

"I told you, it's not your fault."

"That's not what I meant." Cagalli looked away. "I shouldn't have ripped into you like that; after everything you've been through..."

"Forget it," Falcon said, fitting the eyepatch into place. "I told you earlier, I'd be just as suspicious in your place; you just struck a nerve, that's all." He stuck out a hand. "Truce?"

She took it. "Truce."

"That's a relief; I must admit, you impressed me back there." _And... I don't think you're a Natural. Not with those moves._ "You don't have to call me DiFalco, by the way; I do have another name."

Cagalli nodded, with a slight smile. "Okay, Ken." From the look on his face at that remark, she thought she'd somehow offended him again; his expression was... peculiar. "Sorry," she said quickly.

Falcon shook his head. "No, it's okay; it's just... nobody's ever called me that before."

She blinked in surprise. "Nobody? Ever? Not even your parents?"

"Nope; not once in my entire life." He laughed quietly, with a trace of genuine humor. "It's always been 'Falcon' to my friends, 'DiFalco' to my superiors, and 'Commander' to my subordinates. But..." He paused. "I kind of like it. It's... something not associated with the war, or with my regrettable past; something that isn't part of the 'legend' of the Grimaldi Falcon."

Cagalli smiled. "'Ken' it is, then."

With a slight smile of his own, Ken DiFalco leaned heavily against the wall; she'd noticed he got tired easily, and wasn't surprised to see him rest a little, after their abortive sparing match. She suspected it had something to do with being in full gravity; after all, he'd spent most of his time since joining ZAFT, three years before, in zero- to low-gravity. It had to be tiring, readjusting to it.

That reminded her of something else. "Why _did_ you leave ZAFT, Ken? You said something about them betraying you..."

Ken glanced up. "Actually," he said slowly, "you might say that it's more a case of me betraying myself, originally. It was they who used me, in the end, but it was my sin that led to it. Beyond that, I will not say; it's too dangerous now. Suffice it to say that I was working on a top-secret project, and Patrick decided to use it for something other than its intended purpose." He smiled slightly. "Fortunately, I _do_ have a few plans in the works to put a wrench in _his_ plans; my few surviving Gray Demons are busy with that as we speak."

That didn't surprise her. Cagalli still thought that the ace was arrogant, to a degree, but if he still had agents working for him, perhaps it was justifiable... to a degree. "But I'd heard the Gray Demons were wiped out at Endymion," she said after a moment. "The unit was disbanded afterwards, wasn't it?"

"Actually," Ken corrected, "the unit itself wasn't disbanded till just after Nova; and, besides myself, there were four survivors of Endymion." He shook his head. "Thirteen of us went in, and five of us came out alive. One of them was later killed in battle -after I joined the _Archangel,_ I heard Talia Corialis had a bad run-in with Ed 'The Ripper' Harrelson- but there are still three of them operating in ZAFT, in various key positions. My XO, Lance 'Sparky' Cooper, is currently in charge of the Clyne family's bodyguard, while Tom Delaney holds a useful position in ZAFT mobile suit development. The third, a young woman by the name of Leanne Eldridge, is a ZAFT test pilot."

"One more question," she said, eyes narrow. "Just why are you telling me this? Not ten minutes ago we were trying to knock each other unconscious..."

The pilot smiled. "First of all, I seem to recall that we got along pretty well, a few years ago, before we ever met in person. Second, I haven't told you anything more than I've told Mu and Murrue, except for a couple of names. And third..." The smile turned very enigmatic. "Let's just say that it suits my purposes for someone connected to Orb to have some notion of what I'm up to."

Cagalli looked startled. _Connected to Orb...? How did he know...? No, he must be fishing..._ "What makes you think I'm connected to Orb?"

Falcon ticked off points on his fingers. "One: I seem to remember you mentioning something to that effect, a few years ago. Two: you're obviously not from the PLANTs, or Oceania, the African Community, or the former United States of South America. And three: your bodyguard is Colonel Ledonir Kisaka, Orb Ground Forces, 1st Airborne Battalion. Oh yes," he added, at her look of further surprise, "I know all about the good Colonel; we've met before, as you may have noticed. What I can't figure out is what somebody like him is doing _here,_ of all places."

"Tassil _is_ his hometown," Cagalli pointed out, carefully controlling her expression. "Orb may be neutral, but they'd understand if he wanted to go help his people liberate their home."

"Perhaps," he granted. "But I still don't think that's enough reason; and more importantly, there's the question of why _you_ would have him for a bodyguard. I wasn't asking you," he said quickly, raising his hand, "I'm not expecting you to tell me. We all have our secrets, after all. Who you are and why you're somehow important enough to have a colonel for a bodyguard is your business, not mine; if you don't care to reveal it, I don't mind."

_I should have known,_ she thought with a silent sigh. The young man was very clever, certainly; even now, despite being far more open than previously, he revealed no more than he chose, allowing his friendly manner to serve as a mask quite as well as had the emotionless facade. Whatever he was doing now, it was certain to serve his ultimate plan somehow.

"You're obsessed, you know that?" she accused; though far, far more gently than she had accused him of irresponsibility. "Everything you do is for your 'plan'?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite obsessed," Ken admitted calmly. "Probably in the clinical sense, too; after Victor lost his mind and tried to kill me, I studied mental health issues, and I'd say I fit that description quite well. Although, not _quite_ everything is directly related to that; my reasons for obtaining the G-weapon data were exactly what I've said before: it was a favor for a friend, and I was bored." He stretched, finding himself properly recovered from the pain of intense thermal bombardment of his left eye. "Now, Miss Yula -or Cagalli, whichever you prefer- I'd best be going; a certain pilot and I need to have a little chat."

"You mean the Strike pilot?" Cagalli quite clearly remembered him; and she winced now, recalling her impulsive swing at him earlier. "What's he done to get _you_ mad at him?"

"More than he's done to you, I assure you." The mask slipped over his body language and voice like a portcullis slamming down, as he prepared to deal with the outside world again. "It seems my young friend may be losing sight of what he's fighting for, and why; and I have the distinct feeling I know who's doing it to him."

The ace swept out of the cave, paused to retrieve his tunic, sword, and trench coat, and was gone, like dust in the wind.

_He's not a teenager,_ Cagalli thought to herself,_ he's a force of nature._

It was about then that it occurred to her that she had her own reasons for finding the heretofore unnamed Strike pilot. She'd been reared properly, and, though she didn't look forward to it, she felt she really ought to apologize to him for whacking him in the face.

* * *

Falcon found Kira just about where he'd expected to: near the Strike, in a position overlooking the base. He'd just finished draping camouflage netting over the _Archangel,_ and was now relaxing, much as his mentor had recently been. 

"Thought I'd find you here, Kira," Falcon greeted. "You and I have a few things to talk about."

Kira sighed. "I figured we'd be having this conversation. From what you said during the battle, I didn't think you were very happy with me."

"I haven't decided yet if I'm angry," the ace responded. "But I _do_ want to know what's going on. Before now, you didn't want to fight at all; even just before the battle in orbit, I don't think you were looking forward to it. But this time, you seemed almost eager to get into the action... and that doesn't seem like you at all, my friend."

"Maybe I'm just getting used to it," Kira replied, evading the question. "After a while..."

"After a while, some grow to like combat. Yes, I know; but it's totally out of character for _you_, Kira, and that's not what it sounded like to me. It sounded to _me_ like you'd decided that the best way to get through that battle was to kill everyone who got in your way."

_"You_ went all out," he pointed out. "Are you telling me_ I_ shouldn't?"

"Yes," Falcon said patiently, "I went 'all out'. However, _I_ did it because I didn't have much choice at the time; gravity is an unfamiliar combat zone for me, particularly the desert. I have no intention of repeating what I did out there last night... but I get the feeling that _you_ do." He began to pace in front of the younger pilot. "Now, I'm not saying what you did was wrong; I'm not even going to try to convince you not to use lethal force against any ZAFT forces we encounter. No, it's not your actions that trouble me, it's your attitudes. What I am asking you is this: what _exactly_ prompted you to do that, and who gave you the idea?"

Kira looked away. "Flay and I... spent some time together last night. Not what you're thinking," he said hastily. "I think she wanted it to go that far, but I'm not quite ready for that. But she comforted me over the deaths of those refugees, and helped me see what I _should_ be doing."

"And just what might that be, Kira?" the ace asked softly. "What _is_ it that you should be doing?"

"I should be doing my best to end this war as quickly as possible," Kira replied. "The important thing is to make sure nothing like what happened to that shuttle ever happens again; or what happened to Flay's father." He looked his mentor right in the eye. "Or what happened to Junius Seven."

Falcon nodded slowly. "And what's the best way to accomplish that goal, Kira? Did she tell you that, as well, or just give you a dose of philosophy?"

"She didn't say _how_ I should be doing it," the younger Coordinator admitted. "And I don't know, either. But I _do_ know that I shouldn't let anything stop me, even if it means destroying anyone who gets in the way."

"Destroying? Yes, that sounds like the child of George Allster, all right. A pleasant -relatively pleasant- euphemism for killing all those who stand in the way." Ken nodded again. "The ends justify the means, right? That's just how Patrick sees it, you know."

Kira was indignant. "How _dare_ you compare Flay to-!"

"Relax, amigo; I wasn't saying she was the same as Patrick. Believe me, I know that. But I happen to know how Flay feels about most Coordinators, so I don't find the talk she's been feeding you terribly reassuring." Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "Listen to me, Kira: think about what Flay says, yes. Think about what _I_ said, too; and make your own decision about what to believe. But don't let her use you."

"You think she's _using_ me?" The thought just didn't make sense to Kira. "You can't be serious."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." The ace was the master of the indirect approach, and allowed his fairly mild words to sow the seeds of doubt in his protégé's mind. "In any case, I won't try to tell you who to be with, Kira; I'll just leave you with this warning: be careful of her, and do not let her wield so much influence over you that you become little more than her puppet. Fortunately," he added, moving away, "I think you're too strong-willed to let that happen. But still, be vigilant. The price of freedom... is _eternal_ vigilance."

Then, as seemed to be his habit after these little chats, Falcon was gone; in this case, probably to discuss their next move with his fellow officers and the Desert Dawn leader.

* * *

Soon after that, Cagalli made her way up to Kira's position. _Better get it over with,_ she told herself. _Besides, I still haven't caught the guy's name... and I should thank him for saving me at Heliopolis._

Kira, for his part, wasn't at all displeased to see her coming. Even if she was intending to whack him again, well, at least it would get his mind off what Falcon had just said to him. He'd have to deal with it eventually, but right now he just didn't want to think about it.

"Uh... hi," he greeted hesitantly.

Cagalli was even more hesitant. "I came to apologize," she said abruptly. "For hitting you. I didn't actually mean to... well," she amended, looking away, "I guess I did. But it just... kind of happened; I didn't plan on it. Forgive me."

Kira gazed at her for several moments, unsure of how to respond, and finally smiled. "Forget it," he told her, sitting down. "It must have been a bit of a shock, seeing me here; especially after Heliopolis."

"Yeah," she agreed. "You've been on my mind since then," she said then, musing over the events that had thrown them together. "I guess I've been a little worried, asking myself if you could have gotten to safety. I guess you did, huh?"

"Yeah..." He looked up at the Strike, remembering the battles that had brought him here. With his best friend, Athrun... with the Duel's pilot, who had brought down that shuttle of refugees without a second thought.

"Seeing you turn up out of nowhere piloting one the G-weapons... I guess it got to me," Cagalli admitted. "I didn't like it when I found out those were being constructed at a neutral space colony, so finding out someone like _you_ was flying it kinda startled me."

"I guess it would." Kira vividly remembered the reaction of the _Archangel_'s crew when he descended from the Strike's cockpit... and how the guards had nearly shot him when they found out he was a Coordinator. "It wasn't something I'd planned, I'll admit," he went on. "I kinda stumbled into it, since there was no other way out of the factory district, and things led from there; and when we met up with the Eighth Fleet, I stayed so that I could protect my friends."

She nodded. After the amount of trouble the youth had gone to to get her out safely, his reason for remaining the pilot of the Strike didn't surprise her. "That's another thing I wanted to say," she said, remembering. "I never thanked you for helping out, back at Heliopolis. Didn't get a chance to, I guess."

"It's okay," he replied, face growing uncomfortably warm. "Really, it was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing to _me,"_ Cagalli retorted; his embarrassed reaction surprised her. _What's so embarrassing about saving someone's life, anyway?_ "I'm grateful."

"Well... it was the least I could do." Kira stood again, and held out his hand. "I'm Kira, by the way, Kira Yamato. I guess Falcon's told you a lot about me?"

"I'm Cagalli Yula," she replied, taking the proffered hand, "and no, he hasn't. I can't really makes or tails of the guy right now; _you're_ certainly more normal than he is."

"Uh, thanks." He took that as something of a compliment, though she didn't seem to be exactly disparaging the ace pilot. "Well, I guess it isn't a surprise; he lives in his own world, I think, and only cares about his mission... whatever it is." Kira cocked his head. "So, what's someone like _you_ doing in a place like this? I assumed you were from Orb..."

Cagalli had the uncomfortable feeling that her bodyguard, Kisaka, was close by, and chose her words with care. "After Heliopolis," she said slowly, "I realized I didn't really know anything about what was going on in the outside world; stayed at home a little too much, I guess. So, I decided to go and see for myself." _That should be safe enough,_ she thought. _Besides, who'd believe someone like me would be _allowed_ to come and fight a war in the middle of a desert?_

He nodded. "I know what you mean. I never really understood what was going on until I got dragged into this, either. Now, though... who's to say which side is really in the right? Maybe the neutral nations have the right idea. Unfortunately," he went on, "I can't exactly take that road myself. Tolle and the others decided to stay with the _Archangel,_ and I couldn't let them go without me, so..."

"So here you are," she finished. "Would you have still joined up if you'd known you were about to land in the middle of the hottest desert in the word, though?"

Kira laughed. "Maybe not; makes me glad the Strike is air-conditioned. I don't know how anybody can stand wearing those cloaks I've seen around here."

"Obviously you've never lived in a desert," Cagalli said, rolling her eyes. "During the day, you need something to keep the sand off; at night, you need it for warmth. People who haven't spent time in a desert don't seem to realize that it gets _cold_ here at night."

He looked up at the Strike again. "I guess I'll find out, won't I? If we're going to be joining forces with your people, we probably won't be leaving until we find a way to blunt the ZAFT offensive."

"I know Sahib would prefer it that way," she agreed. Then she chuckled, thinking of something else. "I bet we're having a better time than Falcon is right now; Sahib is probably grilling him about ZAFT troop deployments in this area."

Kira frowned. "But Falcon's information must be months out of date."

"Sure it is; but this guy knows the Desert Tiger personally, right? He knows how the guy thinks. Besides, I hear the Grimaldi Falcon was supposed to be one of ZAFT's best planners."

"Maybe so... but he obviously made a mistake somewhere down the line." He looked up. "After all, he's here, isn't he? I don't think leaving ZAFT was part of his plan; and I _know_ he wasn't intending to get back into the war." Kira sighed. "They say you always have choices... but it wasn't Falcon's choice that led him here, and it wasn't mine that led _me_ here."

"The war can't last forever," Cagalli pointed out. "And when you think about it, war spares more lives than it takes. All you have to do is wait it out, and try to survive to the end."

"We might not have the time," he said gloomily. "Judging from the ominous hints Falcon's been dropping, I don't think ZAFT intends to leave it just at winning the war; and I'm not sure the Earth Forces would, either. If either side got nuclear capability back..."

"But that's not possible," she protested. "Not with the N-jammers in place."

"Maybe... but then why is Falcon so terrified of it?"

"He's obsessed," Cagalli said dismissively. "I kind of like the guy, but even _he_ admits he's obsessed. He probably doesn't think quite the same way we do."

"I guess you've got a point." Kira sighed. "Well, I guess all we can do is our best, and hope we make it through this."

"We will," she said confidently. "I'm sure of it."

He looked up at the sky. "I hope you're right."

* * *

Desert Dawn Base, War Room

* * *

"Glad you could join us, Commander," Sahib said, seeing the eyepatch-wearing pilot enter. "We were beginning to think you'd overslept." 

Ken ignored the jibe. "I had other business," he said coolly. "Which is none of yours. Now, shall we get started?"

"Hmph. Well," the resistance leader began, "if I'm not greatly mistaken, you people are seeking passage to Alaska. Am I right?"

"That's what our orders say," Murrue confirmed. "And that's where we'd be now, if we hadn't run into complications on the way into the atmosphere; as it is, we're left looking for the best -and preferably safest- route there."

He nodded to himself. "I see. So, how well does that ship of yours fare in the atmosphere?"

"It can't fly at high altitudes," Natarle admitted. "A few hundred meters, no more."

"Then it can't fly over a mountain." It wasn't a question. "Then the only alternative, it would seem, would be to break through Gibraltar."

Mu opened his mouth, but his brother beat him to the punch. "Impossible," he said flatly. "We have two mobile suits and a pair of Skygraspers; not nearly enough to defeat the Gibraltar defenses. I know, I've been there myself. Next to Carpentaria, it's ZAFT's most heavily defended base on the planet."

Sahib nodded again. "In that case, you could always try going east, through the Red Sea and across the Indian Ocean."

Natarle shook her head. "The Indian Ocean? Sure, we could make it; but not without resupplying along the way. We're running low as it is."

"But we _could_ do it," Mu mused. "ZAFT's submarine forces might be a problem, but with the _Archangel_'s firepower..."

Sahib snorted. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourselves? You'll have more difficulties than just supplies, and that's before you even get there. Or have you forgotten that just last night you were attacked by ZAFT desert forces?"

"Andy Waltfeld," Falcon murmured. "Of course. His headquarters _are_ in Banadiya, after all."

"So before we worry about the supplies, we have to worry about _him."_ Sophia grimaced. "I've fought the Desert Tiger before; it isn't fun."

Ashman turned to her. "That's right, you were at El Alamein. So, what would you say the biggest difficulties in dealing with him are?"

"Besides the fact that he's a fiendishly good tactician and strategist?" She frowned, thinking. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about the land battleships; when the _Archangel_ is airborne, she can blow them to dust bunnies without much trouble. The Agile helicopters are hard to hit with shipboard weaponry, but as I found last night, they're no match for a Skygrasper. For that matter, they weren't too tough when I was flying an F-7D, last year. As for mobile suits... ZuOOTs are nothing but clay pigeons; powerful, but extremely slow and lumbering. They won't be much of a threat. It's the BuCUEs we need to worry about." She looked worried. "After last night..."

"Last night won't happen again," Falcon cut in. "Kira and I have both gotten more accustomed to desert battle conditions; and I've finally started to get the hang of fighting within a gravity well. It might not be pretty, but we can handle it."

"Which still leaves us with the problem of supplies," Murrue mused.

Sahib shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about that just yet, Captain; it'll be several days yet at least before we've even gotten a plan ready for dealing with the enemy. It's not as if we can get everything worked out overnight. We need to time to plan, prepare, and regroup."

"Agreed."

* * *

Desert Dawn Base, Canyon

* * *

That night, Cagalli was abroad, restlessly walking through the base's open areas. She wasn't sure exactly where she was going, but it seemed the thing to do at the time. 

Judging from occasional glimpses she'd gotten of a slate-gray coat fluttering in the chill night air, she wasn't the only one with energy to burn this evening.

She was nearing the _Archangel_'s hatch when she heard voices from around the rock ahead. "Just a minute, Flay!" one voice said. "What's up with you lately, anyway?"

The other voice was definitely irritated. "Just back off, Sai!" it snapped. "Leave me alone, will you? I've got nothing to say to you right now."

"We need to talk," the first voice persisted. "You've been acting strange ever since-"

"Just shut up!"

At that moment, Flay Allster came around the corner, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Cagalli, who was similarly startled; though in her case, more by what she'd overhead than by Flay's physical presence.

The two stared at each for a couple of seconds, and then Flay snorted and moved past, apparently deeming the blonde as beneath her notice. _If she only knew,_ Cagalli thought to herself.

Sai Argyle didn't even acknowledge her presence; he simply brushed past, intent on getting some answers from his -ex?- fiancé. "Come on, Flay!"

To Flay's relief, Kira chose that moment to appear at the _Archangel_'s hatch. "Kira!" she called, running to him. "I'm glad you're here!"

Kira, puzzled that she seemed to be hiding behind him, glanced around. "What's wrong, Flay?"

He got his answer when Sai came into view; Cagalli chose that moment to duck behind a rock. "There you are," the man with the orange glasses said. "Excuse me, Kira; I need to talk to Flay. It's not your business."

"Yes, it is!" Flay retorted before Kira could reply. "This has _everything_ to do with him!" Her lips curled as she looked Sai. "Haven't you realized yet that Kira and I are together now?"

Sai's eyes widened in shock. _"What?"_

Ken, standing on the hill above, nodded to himself. _I knew this was going to happen. Watch yourself, Kira; a guy who's just been jilted might not be quite in his right mind..._

Kira felt distinctly uncomfortable, caught in the middle this way; but he had no intention of backing down either, should it come to that. _Flay's made her choice, Sai,_ he thought coldly. _Get over it._ It didn't occur to him that _he_ might not be acting in an entirely rational manner at this moment, either.

Finally, Sai found his voice again. "Well, Flay?" he said harshly, ignoring Kira completely. "Explain this to me, please. You... you..."

"I don't see why I should explain myself to _you,"_ she said coldly. "It's over between us, all right? I've got nothing more to say to you about it." She looked at Kira. "Come on, Kira. Let's go."

Still uncomfortable, Kira was only too willing to comply; this was a conversation he wanted to avoid even more than his earlier talk with Falcon. "Just forget it, Sai," he advised. "There's... no need to talk about it." He turned away, leading Flay back up the steps to the _Archangel_'s interior.

Sai stared at him incredulously. "No need to...? Come back here, Kira!"

"I'm still tired from the last battle," the Coordinator said without turning. "Just please... leave it be."

Cagalli could see that the older teen was about to attack Kira, and she started to move; though to do what, she wasn't sure. In any case, she never got the chance. A hand closed on her wrist, and Falcon -who had dropped in moments earlier, with hardly a sound- murmured, "Don't bother. Kira can handle himself."

"If you're sure..." she said dubiously.

"I'm sure; and if I thought Sai stood a chance, he'd wake up in the Infirmary wondering why a vertebra in his neck was fractured. Now watch." He sounded almost amused; which, come to think of it, he probably was.

"Kira!" Sai shouted. Sure enough, he ran at Kira, fists tightening...

And the next thing he knew, he'd been spun around, his right arm was pinned behind his back, and he was being catapulted three meters away by a deft movement from Kira. He landed in the sand, the wind thoroughly knocked out of him.

"If I took this seriously," Kira told him, tone a mix of disgust and anger, "you'd be a lot worse off. You wouldn't stand a chance against someone like me."

Staring at the pilot in shock, Sai managed a wheezing, "Kira...?"

"It's over, Sai," Kira said, turning away. "And you should know, Flay is the only Natural on this ship that's even _tried_ to understand what I'm going through out there; what goes through my mind in a battle." Fists clenched, he shot an angry glance over his shoulder. "It shouldn't tale a Coordinator like Falcon to stop and think that maybe I'm more than just a machine or something; more than just a part of the Strike! You haven't even _tried_ to understand me; it never even _occurred_ to you, did it?" He turned away again. "You don't understand me, Sai. But Flay does... and you don't understand _her,_ either. So do us both a favor, and let it go."

He resumed his walk into the _Archangel,_ followed closely by a startled but pleased Flay; neither of them paid any more attention to the stunned -in more ways than one- student who sat in the sand.

"That went well," Ken murmured to Cagalli.

She stared at him. "You call that going _well?"_

He shrugged. "At least Kira stood up for himself; I'm not sure he'd have done that a few weeks ago. He _certainly_ wouldn't have dealt with the problem so... thoroughly. He might have-" He was interrupted by a sudden alarm klaxon, just as a headset he carried in a pocket beeped at him. "What the blazes is going on?" he muttered, putting the headset to his ear. "This is DiFalco. What's- Huh?" He listened for a moment. "Roger that. I'll be back aboard momentarily. DiFalco out."

"What's going on?" Cagalli demanded.

Ken put the com device back in his pocket. "Tassil is under attack," he said calmly. "Seems Andy Waltfeld decided to make an example of you; though I doubt he actually _knows_ you've joined forces with us. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to my machine."

The gray trench coat vanished into the _Archangel,_ brushing past Kira and Flay, and Cagalli turned to run for her own weapons.

* * *

Author's note: The _Archangel_ has joined forces with the Desert Dawn, and Tassil has come under attack. Meanwhile, the truth behind Falcon's eye has finally been revealed… 

Hm. Every desert chapter so far has had the word "desert" in the title; either I've got a good theme here, or I'm dreadfully unoriginal.

Ninofchaos, glad you liked it; I hope this chapter was just as good.

Deathzealot, I don't know if gunbarrels would _actually_ work in atmosphere, but since DRAGOON units do -note the Strike Freedom- I figured it stood to reason. Still, he won't be using them much from here on out.

Ominae, Falcon's past with the "flame" _will_ be revealed… just not for awhile yet. As per my usual practice, it will be alluded to from time to time, but won't be fully explained until the proper time.

Red Eyed Divine Dragoon77415, I surrender, okay? I know the last one was rushed; it won't happen again. I'm still looking forward to that area, but I won't hurry at the expense of quality. If nothing else, my life is easier if I keep my readers happy.

Centurious, I imagine there _will_ be a few twists in your story; but then, with any OC in the mix, that's kind of hard to avoid. I'll be looking forward to it.

ZGMF X-10A Infinite Justice, I'm glad you're still liking it; I imagine you found this chapter "interesting" as well, given the new revelations.

NukeDawg, what I'll say about Tolle is this: if I'd known about the Dearka/Mir pairing back when I was first writing Brothers in Arms, I would probably have done things differently. Draw your own conclusions from that.

By the way, I expect I'll be reviewing your story again before long; or so I judge from the alert I had when I logged on.

WillTheWatcher, I'm afraid you may find that my stories _frequently_ have a number of questions that aren't answered for awhile; that's kind of unavoidable. And in my experience, one of the things that keeps readers coming back is wondering what the truth behind a characters background is. Still, I'm glad you like it anyway.

Warp Ligia Obscura, there is indeed a reason for my using "Falcon" instead of "Ken" most of the time. As you no doubt saw in this chapter, it was another part of Falcon's fairly complex background; but from here on, he'll be referred to as "Ken" a fair amount of the time (at least by certain characters).

Didn't have much choice but to raise the odds in that battle; even when he's still adjusting to planetary battle conditions, Falcon is a superb pilot; he didn't live this long by being incompetent, that's for sure.

As for Kira not realizing the solution to his footing problems on his own, that comes back to Falcon's experience again. After all the time he's spent flying mobile suits in combat, I would expect him to find the solution faster than a relative newbie like Kira, and he wouldn't exactly keep the information to himself. And as for the missiles not being present, well, it just didn't seem to fit in this version. Although, given the flack I've gotten over that battle, maybe I should have done things a little differently. Well, _that_ problem won't be happening again, if I have anything to say about it.

You're on the right track with Raptor. I won't say when or where, but eventually, and without warning, the machine simply come apart… at exactly the wrong moment, of course.

Dullindal involved with ABADDON… well, given his connections to a certain SEED character, it stands to reason that he would have been. Thanks for the suggestion; I've already got it figured into my grand design for A Call to Arms.

Infinite Freedom, I was beginning to wonder if you'd review that chapter. I find it rather interesting that one of my characters looks like a real person; completely coincidental, of course, since I had no way of knowing beforehand. And no, I'm not mad about you suggesting that name to NukeDawg; why would I be? It's just a name, and an interesting notion, at that.

Yes, the Preybird's DRAGOON units will have atmospheric flight capability; if memory serves -and it certainly should- the Strike Freedom's units can. And Falcon will be using those more than the Death Blossoms, since -with a nuclear-powered machine- power isn't really a consideration.

I don't think the Forbidden was ready by the time of the flight across the Red Sea; if I remember right, Sutherland and the others are discussing _completing_ the new machines not long after _Archangel_ reaches Alaska. I could be wrong, of course -I'd have to check- but I don't think it was complete at that point.

You're right about Huckebein the Raven being taken from Ace Combat 5; I was actually wondering when someone would notice that blatant reference to it. Interestingly, though, "Huckebein" translates as "hunchback". Not quite so scary-sounding in English, is it?

Thanks for passing on that message, by the way; you can tell her I said Hi, too.

Shinji Ikari, I agree completely; I rushed that last one, and believe me, I'll try to make sure that doesn't happen again.

As you may have noticed, I already went back and corrected that line of Natarle's. As for the final scene, with the SEED factor… I'm still thinking about exactly how I'm going to rework that. As for Falcon, though, the general idea was that, besides the speed involved, his _body_ wouldn't be capable of those moves under normal circumstances; as is mentioned in this chapter, he ordinarily would have blacked out. I will grant, however, that I wasn't as clear as I should have been, and I'll try to avoid that kind of situation in the future. So yes, you were largely correct about why the SEED factor was necessary there (of course I'm now beginning to think I should have stuck with my original plan, and saved his first Berserker state for Alaska; ah, well).

Now, I tried to take into account the various points you made about Kira and Flay's relationship in this version, and I hope I did an adequate job (at the very least, it think I managed to get my point across a bit better than I did with this scene in Brothers in Arms). If not, however, feel free to berate me over it; if nothing else, it keeps me humble.

Finally, as regards when I begin A Call to Arms, no, I won't be completely halting Birds of a Feather. For one thing, I've got some interesting plans for Falcon's final encounter with Le Creuset, at Jachin, which I'd just hate to have go to waste. I hope to, if possible, surpass Brothers in Arms' final battle; certainly the battle with Le Creuset himself will be emphasized more. And as for the possibility that Destiny won't hit Cartoon Network, I find that rather unlikely; but if, in fact, it does not, I won't wait for the DVDs. I'll just bone up on the episode synopses and put my creative talents to work in winging it. With that as a framework, I should be able to manage; but I'd still prefer to see the actual episodes first.

Another hour down the drain with the notes; maybe one day I'll convince myself to shut up about it. Anyway, till next time. -Solid Shark


	15. Chapter 15: Payback in the Desert

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

African Community, Desert Dawn Base, February 16th, C.E. 71

* * *

Controlled pandemonium gripped the resistance fighters' base, as everyone there scrambled to prepare for a fast trip to Tassil. Their home was under attack, and they had every intention of giving Andy Waltfeld and his ZAFT forces something else to worry about. 

Kira and Flay, hearing the alarm that had echoed throughout the base, had stepped back outside, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. They could hear voices shouting to each other; one man sounded particularly frustrated, apparently unable to get a radio signal through to Tassil. _We've got to do something,_ Kira thought. _They're under attack; we can't just sit here and do nothing._

He pulled away from Flay's grip, and raced back to the _Archangel_ as fast as his legs would carry him. Falcon, he knew, would already be getting ready for whatever the next battle would bring, and he didn't want to keep his mentor -and superior officer- waiting.

"Kira!" Flay called, surprised by his abrupt departure, and ran to follow him; she completely ignored Sai. The man with the orange glasses had finally gotten back to his feet, but he wasn't inclined to press his luck by following either of them.

"I'm pathetic," he whispered. "If _I_ could fly the Strike, none of this would have happened..."

Elsewhere, as the Desert Dawn's jeeps and combat vehicles began to move out, Cagalli came barreling out of one of the caves, a rocket launcher over her shoulder. _We've got to get out there,_ she thought, glancing around for transportation of her own. _We can't let the Tiger have his way..._

A jeep screeched to a halt right in front of her. "Need a lift, Cagalli?" Ahmed asked with a smile.

She smiled back. "Thanks, Ahmed." She jumped in, followed closely by her huge bodyguard, and they were off. _I wonder if the _Archangel_ will send anyone... Of course they will,_ Cagalli realized. _That Falcon guy will be there, I'm sure; I don't know what he's up to, but I don't think _this_ is part of his plan._

Watching the various vehicles depart, Murrue shook her head. "They certainly are in a hurry."

"Can't blame them," Mu said, scratching his head. "That _is_ their home that's under attack." He glanced at her sidelong. "What do you think? Should we send someone with them?"

She thought about that. "We can't rule out the possibility that this is a diversionary attack," she said slowly. "Their real objective may be the _Archangel._ But we also can't afford to take the chance. You'd better go with them, Commander."

"Me?" He feigned confusion. "Why me?"

"The Skygraspers are the quickest way to get there, right?" Murrue replied, not buying it. "I get the feeling Falcon is going to cut himself orders to head out there, but I want you to go, as well; just to be safe."

Mu nodded. Whatever Falcon did was a part of his own agenda; everything he did and saw would be filtered through his own priorities, so he might miss details not pertinent to his own "grand design". "Okay, I'll head there right away."

As he took off running, she shouted after him. "I'll also send the Doctor and some supplies!" she called. "They'll probably need it!"

The pilot waved a hand in her direction, and was gone.

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Sophia, not needing to hear the details to know she might be required to launch soon, was already suited up and checking over her Skygrasper when her brother entered at a dead run, wearing his own flightsuit; in this case, the power cable from the suit's chest area seemed to be connected to a belt pack of some kind. As always, she didn't ask. 

"I need a ride, Sophia," he said without preamble. "Chief Murdoch tells me he's still working on reinforcing Raptor's frame, so I need you to get me to Tassil."

"Climb aboard, Falcon," Sophia said readily, indicating the Skygrasper's rear seat. "But I'm kinda surprised you didn't insist on flying yourself there."

Falcon jumped into the seat. "One: this is your machine; I wouldn't presume to commandeer it unless it was a dire emergency. Two: I have no idea how to fly this thing."

"Point," she admitted, climbing into the pilot seat. "I should have thought of that. Now, how about you call the Bridge and tell them we're leaving?"

"Good idea." He located the rear position's radio controls, and keyed a connection. "Bridge, this is Falcon; Skygrasper 2 launching with full crew for Tassil."

_"Understood, Falcon,"_ Mir replied._ "Opening hatch; the Strike is standing by, if you need some heavier firepower."_

"Thanks; but I think Waltfeld will be long gone by the time we get there."

Sophia turned her head. "What makes you say that?" she asked, guiding the aircraft into the catapult and feeding power to the engines.

"Tassil's population won't have been Andy's target," Ken explained. "I know the man; he's not one of those commanders who thinks Naturals are worthless. No, he'll have given them a warning and time to evac, then blown the arms caches and burned the place down; but after that, he'll be gone. No reason for him to stay any longer than that."

"I hope you're right," she remarked, piloting the Skygrasper out through the hatch. "Because I think we're going to have enough trouble keeping the Desert Dawn types from doing anything... hasty as it is."

"I know."

* * *

African Community, Sky Above Tassil

* * *

The two Skygraspers rendezvoused over the Desert Dawn vehicles as they sped across the desert to Tassil. "How's it look, Mu?" Falcon called. "See anything yet?" 

Mu looked over the burning town. "It doesn't look good," he admitted. "I don't seen any sign of BuCUEs or Agiles, but the town's about burnt too a crisp."

"That's what I thought." _Andy didn't care if the resistance fighters were actually involved in the fighting, _the ace thought. _He must have realized how we got advance warning, and took that as sufficient reason to burn Tassil to the ground._ He wondered idly how Kisaka must be feeling; this _was_ his hometown, after all. _He's too professional to seek vengeance; but if other resistance fighters go looking for trouble, he'll follow them. I'm sure of it._

"Any sign of survivors?" Sophia asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Uh... just a sec." Mu rolled his fighter, flying upside down for a few seconds as he searched the ground. "Actually," he said slowly, rolling upright again, "yes. In fact, there seem to be a large number of survivors; most of whom don't even seem to be injured. I don't understand it."

"Like I told Sophia, Mu," Falcon told him, "Andy Waltfeld isn't the type to massacre civilians. He'll have gone for the military targets -the arms dumps- and maybe burned the place down, to deprive the Desert Dawn of their infrastructure, but he won't have needlessly killed innocents in the process. I think you'll find that he gave them warning before opening fire."

"I do hope you're not condoning this," his brother said, eyes narrow. "Because it kind of sounds like you are."

"You should know me better than that. I'm not saying that this is how _I'd_ have done it; I'm just saying that Waltfeld made sure to do it without unnecessary casualties. My personal feelings about the tactics are quite irrelevant."

"He's got a point, Mu," Sophia acknowledged.

"Yeah, true," the Hawk admitted. "Now, what do you think? Should we land here?"

"Probably a good idea," Falcon replied. "We can only see so much from up here; and besides, we may be needing to keep the more... impulsive resistance fighters in check. I don't question their courage, just their weaponry; they've got nothing that will do much against BuCUEs."

"Yeah."

* * *

African Community, Tassil

* * *

The pair of atmosphere fighters set down together just outside the burning wastes that had, just hours before, been a thriving town. 

Mu waved a hand in front of his face. "Ugh. One thing I hadn't counted on was the smell; forgot how much burning buildings stink."

Falcon sniffed the air. "Buildings... and carbonized desert rat, from the smell. Not to mention whatever weapons got pulverized in the attack." He glanced at his fellow pilot with the faintest trace of a smile. "Be glad there weren't any deaths; by morning, the vultures would be out in full force, and that just wouldn't be pleasant at all. The stench, for one thing, would be about ten times worse."

"I'll take your word for it."

Sophia glanced about. "There might have been no loss of life," she mused, "but I don't think that's going to mollify the guerillas much, if you know what I mean."

Ken nodded. "Yeah, I know. These guys aren't very disciplined; and it's discipline that keeps people from striking out in the name of vengeance."

Mu raised an eyebrow. "Speaking from experience?"

A simple nod. "You might say that; Victor is undisciplined, in his way, and look where that ended up." He paused. "And if _I_ lacked discipline, Rau Le Creuset would already be dead."

The ace turned and walked to the opposite side of the Skygrasper; it had abruptly occurred to him that he no longer needed to have the power unit plugged into his flightsuit, and he had no desire to be observed while he disconnected it.

_Of course,_ Ken thought,_ I doubt I'll be able to keep it a secret forever; one of these days, I'll either forget to hook it up in the first place, or my machine will take damage that cuts off the power flow. Or maybe I'll just need to visit the Infirmary; it's not as if it would take long for the Doctor to notice that something is a little... unusual._

He supposed that there was no real reason to conceal it; but he had always felt it best to conceal things about himself, strength and weakness alike. Old habits died hard... and even he knew that he had a proud streak. _It'll get me killed one day, I suppose; Cagalli's right that I'm arrogant. But I don't have a choice; I'm the only one who can stop it._ Ken frowned, mood rapidly going downhill. _I'm the only one who can stop Patrick from employing GENESIS... and it's my duty to be the one._

He leaned heavily against the aircraft; the gravity was getting to him again, and, as usual, he hadn't slept well during his catnap a few hours before. As always, his sleep was plagued with nightmares of nuclear fire, the devastation of a Cyclops... and the all-consuming blast from a weapon yet-unborn. That last bothered him more than even memories of the Bloody Valentine or Endymion, and would until the war came to an end.

"Hey, Falcon!" Mu called, breaking into his thoughts. "Don't you think we ought to report the situation to the _Archangel?"_

"Right, right." Falcon rejoined his fellow pilots, and climbed up to the Skygrasper's cockpit. Leaning in, he fiddled with the radio, and glanced down at Mu. "You want to do it, or shall I?"

His brother cocked his head. "Well, you _are_ the ranking officer on the scene, right? That means _you_ get to deal with this."

"I'm honored," the ace said in as dry a tone as he'd permit himself under normal circumstances. _"Archangel,"_ he said, keying the radio, "this is DiFalco; do you read me?"

_"Loud and clear, Falcon,"_ Mir replied swiftly._ "I'll patch you through to the Captain."_

_"I'm here, Falcon,"_ Murrue said a moment later._ "What's the situation over there?"_

"About as I expected," Ken replied. "The ammo dumps are write-offs, and so is most of the town; Waltfeld was pretty thorough."

She nodded grimly. _"That's about I expected, too; the man didn't earn the nickname 'Desert Tiger' for nothing. What about casualties?"_

"As far as I can tell..." He looked back at the refugees; Sahib now appeared to be getting a grip on the situation himself, while nearby, Cagalli was looking quietly furious. "As far as I can tell, everyone's fine."

Murrue blinked. _"How is that possible?"_

"From what I gather," Falcon answered, "Waltfeld gave them advance warning; give the man some credit, he isn't a murderer... unlike a few others I could name," he added under his breath. "Unfortunately, I don't think that's going to mollify these people much, and to be honest, I don't blame them. _They_ may have survived, but their homes have burnt to a crisp." He sniffed the air in disgust. "Not to mention that it smells like a dozen rats fell into a blast furnace around here."

_"I see."_ She wasn't sure if the pilot intended to be amusing; as always, it was hard to tell if he had the world's driest delivery, or was simply stating fact. A little of both in this case, she suspected._ "Well, keep us informed, and let me know if anything else momentous happens."_

"Understood; Falcon out."

* * *

"Looks like something's up," Sophia noted when Falcon got off the radio. "Sahib seems to be arguing with some of his people; I wonder the problem is." 

Ken's eye narrowed. "I think I'd better go find out; w can't have these people self-destructing on us now, of all times."

He walked over to the argument, and got there just in time to hear a guerrilla with a bandana covering the lower half of his face snarl something at Sahib. "You can't expect us to just give up and resign ourselves to being the Tiger's lap dogs!"

With that one statement, Ken understood what the fractious lot intended to do. "You can't be serious," he interjected quietly. "Going after BuCUEs with your equipment is suicide."

Sahib looked at him and nodded, grateful for the backup, but Cagalli rounded on him. "Don't you think it's worth it if spending our lives gets us closer to freedom?" she demanded. "How can you question our courage, after everything-"

"I wasn't questioning your courage," he replied, "only your capabilities. Your weapons do not stand a chance against BuCUEs; I should know, I was a test pilot for them, back in the PLANTs."

The bandana-wearing man snorted. "We'll see about that, Coordinator." He used the word like an insult; something which even Cagalli did not approve of, but she never had the chance to say so.

"You are fortunate I have a thick skin, Mister," Falcon said calmly. "You are also fortunate you didn't call me a 'space monster'; that particular epithet has been known to make me angry." He shrugged. "Well, if you're _that_ determined to go get yourselves killed, be my guest; I guess the rest of us will just have to try and pick up the pieces afterwards."

Sahib, watching the pilot stalk away, realized then that involving the man might have been a mistake; as an ex-ZAFT ace, he didn't garner trust very easily. Sahib himself didn't have any problems with him... but he could tell that wasn't the case with some of his people.

Now, seeing the angry resistance fighter and his faction get in their artillery trucks and drive off, he had to make a decision. _No choice,_ he thought. _Can't let them go off and get themselves killed all alone._ He gestured to his own driver, and climbed in.

Cagalli, who had followed after Falcon a few paces, stopped. "What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

He didn't look at her. "My job," he said simply. "Whether I follow them or not depends on Captain Ramius' threat assessment; if she feels the _Archangel_ is in too much danger, I'll probably be heading straight back. If not... she'll probably leave it to my discretion."

"And if she does?"

Ken glanced over his shoulder. "Than Andy learns firsthand how I got my reputation. You don't abandon allies, for any reason." He began walking again. "If you want to catch up with them, you'd better hurry; I'll see you later."

He didn't bother to see where she went from there.

Natarle was there when Falcon rejoined the group; she'd arrived a few minutes earlier in a jeep, and was now shaking her head in bemusement. "I can't believe they're actually doing it; don't they know what they're up against out there?"

"They know," the pilot said softly. "But they don't care; vengeance can blind you to risks. To be fair, they have reason to be angry." His eye narrowed. "But they should have anticipated something like this might happen."

"But they'll be slaughtered!" she protested.

"You're right about that," Mu agreed with a slight smile. "So, what'll we do about it?"

"Don't ask me," Natarle replied, uncharacteristically uncertain. "I haven't a clue."

"But I do," Ken broke it. "We're going to report this to the Captain, and then you, Sophia," he said, turning to his sister, "are going to fly me back to the _Archangel._ I suspect I'll have things to do by morning."

Sophia nodded. "Got it, Falcon."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

In the end, it was Mu who reported to the _Archangel;_ Falcon had decided that, whatever Murrue's decision was, he'd be called back to the ship soon enough anyway, so he preferred to get a head start. 

_"...so they just packed up and went after the BuCUEs,"_ he finished._ "Falcon's warning about the disparity in capabilities didn't faze them at all; I don't think they trust him. Not a surprise, I guess, since he _is_ ex-ZAFT."_

Murrue slowly shook her head. "Couldn't _you_ have tried to stop them, Commander?"

He snorted. _"Sorry, Ma'am, but I'm not suicidal. They were so worked up that if I tried, they'd attack _me._ Besides, if they didn't listen to their leader, they weren't very likely to listen to me."_ The Hawk shrugged. _"In any case, we have more pressing problems to deal with here. There's the matter of food, and -especially- water. Fortunately, that isn't much in the way of injuries, but still..."_

She nodded. "Understood. I'll send some more supplies ASAP. In the meantime... we can't just let them get themselves killed out there. I'll send Ensign Yamato to check up on them."

Mu raised an eyebrow. _"What about Falcon?"_

"That's _his_ business." Murrue smiled wryly. "I've given up trying to second-guess him, so I'll just let _him_ figure out what he should be doing."

"Understood; La Flaga out."

As his image disappeared from the screen, she looked down into CIC. "Crewman Haw, order the Strike to launch immediately; and ask Commander DiFalco what his intentions are."

"Yes, Ma'am," Mir replied. "Kira, prepare the Strike for immediate launch."

"Roger that."

She switched to the Bridge link with the Raptor; she assumed the ace would be there already. "Falcon, the Captain wants to know what you intend to do."

_"I'm launching as well,"_ Ken replied._ "I'll hang back, at least at first -I'm not sure Kira will need any help- but I'll be there. I'm leaving Sophia and Skygrasper 2 here, though; no reason to leave the ship completely defenseless."_

"Got it." Mir paused. "Do you know what you'll be up against out there?"

_"If the townspeople's reports can be trusted, just three BuCUEs."_ He shrugged._ "Now that we know how to fight here, I don't think they'll be much trouble for Kira... unless Waltfeld himself decides to take a hand. He's good."_

She nodded grimly. "Do you think that's likely?"

_"Hard to say; knowing him, he might just decide to fight the Strike himself. The man doesn't get excited by much besides his coffee, so he'd probably relish the challenge. Like I said, hard to say."_ Falcon lowered his visor._ "If you'll excuse us, I believe Kira and I need to get going."_

"Roger that; good luck out there, guys."

"I don't believe in luck."

* * *

_Archangel, _Catapults

* * *

"G-weapons versus BuCUEs, Round 2," Ken remarked. "Ready for it, Kira?" 

"Ready as I'll ever be." Kira looked up at his mentor's image. "I just hope we don't have a repeat of that last battle."

"We won't," the ace said confidently. "We know what we're dealing with this time, and how to deal with it; and besides, there's only three."

_"Hey, Commander,"_ Murdoch broke in._ "You need any extra hardware today?"_

Falcon shook his head. "Negative, Chief; out there, against BuCUEs, maneuverability is the name of the game, and any special weapons would just serve to slow me down. The rifle and sabers will do fine; I won't need anything else unless it gets a lot hairier than I expect."

_"Okay."_ The mechanic hesitated._ "Remember what I told you earlier, Commander: you stressed Raptor pretty bad last time, so be careful out there; if start getting some nasty vibration while you're flying, don't wait around. Just punch out, and hope you don't get caught by flying debris. If you _don't_ feel excessive vibration... well, I can't promise you it won't fall apart anyway."_

"Understood, Chief; I'll be careful."

"And let me know how she performs; that'll give me a better idea of how long you got before you fly apart at the seams."

"Will do." Falcon switched frequencies, and tightened his grip on the controls; fortunately for his health, he'd already plugged in the power cable. "This is the Grimaldi Falcon; Raptor Gundam heading out."

Kira watched the slate-gray near-copy of the Strike shoot out of the catapult as if fired from a cannon, and imitated his mentor. "Kira Yamato here; Strike, heading out!"

Now the two machines headed out for another rendezvous with the forces of the legendary Desert Tiger himself.

* * *

Libyan Desert, Between Tassil and Banadiya

* * *

During the long drive back to Banadiya, Andrew Waltfeld reclined comfortably in his seat. _Another bit of business done,_ he thought, reflecting on the destruction of the Desert Dawn's weapons. _Now maybe the gnats won't bite as hard._

Of course, he hadn't forgotten one of the Grimaldi Falcon's axioms that applied to this situation. Lesson Twenty-one: If you cannot defeat the enemy by numbers, remember: even the smallest of creatures can nibble the largest to death.

The Desert Dawn _were_ a nuisance, Waltfeld admitted. Even a threat, however small. But they were also undisciplined, and if he'd read them right, that meant they would be having a little action before long.

_At least it'll make DaCosta happy,_ he thought idly.

As if on cue, his protégé sighed. "Can't we go any faster than this?" he complained, over the noise of the BuCUEs plodding after them.

"Eager to return to base, eh?" Waltfeld said with a knowing smile. "Heat bothering you again? You should be used to it by now."

"It's not that," DaCosta said, mildly irritated. "It's just that- if we keep moving at this speed, those resistance fighters will catch up to us."

The Tiger shrugged and leaned back again. "If so, then we're meant to meet; it's fate. Besides," he pointed out, "their artillery trucks are no match for our BuCUEs."

"Which is something they should know," his aide replied, trying another tack. "If the Grimaldi Falcon is with the legged ship, and the ship had joined forces with the resistance fighters, then they'll know about that; which means they may be planning a trap."

Waltfeld shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think so," he said calmly. "They won't easily trust a ZAFT deserter; and even if they do, I suspect they'll be thinking more with their emotions than their brains right now. No, I don't think they'll try anything more subtle than a frontal assault, and a frontal assault is something we can deal with easily enough." He smiled slightly. "Besides, when people are in a difficult situation, you often hear them say, 'Better to perish'; but do you think they honestly mean it? I don't."

"If you say so," DaCosta said dubiously. "Then I guess-"

In one of the BuCUEs, a pilot looked up as his display beeped at him. "Commander?" he called. "I have vehicles on radar; six, no, eight vehicles. They're artillery trucks, probably belonging to the resistance fighters."

Waltfeld's eyebrows went up. "Maybe _those_ people would rather perish, after all."

* * *

_Here we go,_ Cagalli thought, as the trucks launched themselves from a sand dune and sped straight toward Waltfeld's forces._ Time for a little payback._

Ahead of her vehicle, another edged slightly ahead of the pack. "Go for the jeep!" one guerilla said, raising a rocket launcher to his shoulder. "This time, we're hunting the Tiger!" He fired the crude but effective weapon; while not a very accurate weapon, it would suffice if it hit anywhere near Waltfeld's jeep.

If.

One of the BuCUEs, piloted by a fellow named Kirkwood, jumped into the path of the explosive projectile; the rocket exploded harmlessly against the machine's armor. "You'll have to do better than _that,"_ he whispered, grinning to himself. "Seriously, taking artillery trucks up against mobile suits? You're out of your minds."

Raising his machine's right forepaw, Kirkwood admitted that the trucks did have one advantage: they were just about impossible to hit with the armament his BuCUE had. On the other hand, they were so fragile that all he really had to do was run into them or step on them; compared to a mobile suit, they might as well have been made of tissue paper.

Before he could smash the irritating little bug, another rocket lanced out, followed quickly by one more. Both were from Cagalli's vehicle, and though hers hit only the tough leg armor, Kisaka's slammed right into an ankle joint, causing the big machine to slew over and hit the sand; that one was out of action.

"We did it!" Ahmed shouted jubilantly.

"Yeah!" Cagalli agreed, reloading. _See, Falcon?_ she thought at the no doubt far-distant pilot. _We _can_ do some damage to BuCUEs._

Kirkwood's comrades weren't terribly amused to note that she was right. They decided to show their displeasure, in fact, and one of them did so by wrenching his machine around on its treads and charging right at a cluster of the resistance fights' vehicles.

"Get out of the way!" Sahib shouted, trying in vain to be heard over the distance and noise. "Those things will go right through-!"

His warning came too late. Before the guerillas could even hope to move out of the BuCUE's path, the huge machine had run right through three trucks as if they weren't even there. "Take that!" the pilot shouted, pleased at his act of retribution.

"Bastards!" Cagalli hissed. She fired off another rocket; but her shot was hasty and came just as Ahmed was yanking the wheel for another wild maneuver. The projectile hit the sand and exploded too close to the truck, and fragments from the explosive ripped into the rear tires, shredding them.

"This isn't good!" Ahmed shouted, struggling to retain control. "We're gonna crash!"

Their intended target saw their predicament, and the pilot smiled. "You're not getting away, Naturals," he said to himself. "Try this!" The BuCUE's paw came up for a killing swipe...

And a green dart caught his machine in the back, blowing off its missile launcher. The shot from nowhere was instantly followed by another, from a different angle, which just missed; and an inhuman, ascending wail over the airwaves and through the desert air.

The cavalry had arrived.

* * *

DaCosta stared in disbelief as both Earth Forces mobile suits appeared on the battlefield, spitting green energy bolts all over the place. "The Earth Forces machines... came to rescue them? But why?" 

Waltfeld nodded to himself, observing the slate-gray machine as it hovered protectively over the truck it had just saved. "I guess the legged ship is serious about this alliance of theirs. Hmm." His eyes narrowed. "Three BuCUEs against two G-weapons, with one of our machines temporarily out of action, and the other disarmed. This could be a problem." He turned to his protégé. "Is Commander Huckebein within range to assist?"

DaCosta checked the small radar map on the dashboard. "Looks that way, Commander."

"Good; signal him. Only beam weapons will do much to Phase-shift. One machine we can take the time to wear down, but not two." _Besides,_ Waltfeld didn't add, _maybe _this_ time DiFalco will actually get rid of the guy for us... finally._

Victor Tempest was not well-liked among ZAFT; and it was becoming a popular theory among them that their wayward soul was deliberately leaving Tempest alive for this very reason.

* * *

"Got a problem here, Falcon," Kira called. "I missed, when my computer said it should have been dead-on." 

Falcon nodded, still keeping half an eye on the truck beneath him. "I know; I was trying for a decap shot on my target. We're still missing something here." He shrugged. "Keep working on it, and keep those BuCUEs busy, will you? I'm gonna land and check on that truck."

"Got it," his friend acknowledged. "And... try to make sure she doesn't get killed, okay?" There was no question of which "she" he was referring to, but it puzzled the ace somewhat.

_Ah,_ he thought, setting down near the now-stopped vehicle,_ they probably just hit it off... after hitting each other. But I don't recall Kira "hitting it off" with someone quite so soon before..._

Falcon shrugged it off. He'd only known Kira for a little over four months; how would _he_ know how long it took for Kira to get to know someone?

Now grounded, the pilot disconnected the power cable, unstrapped, and opened the hatch, before climbing down to the ground. "You guys okay?" he called.

Kisaka nodded, still as calm as ever. "Just barely; you have my thanks, Commander."

Ken shrugged. "It was nothing, really."

Cagalli looked at him through narrowed eyes. _Why do I have a feeling I've had this conversation with someone before?_ "It wasn't 'nothing' to us," she pointed out. "You just saved our lives."

"The truck's a write-off, though," Ahmed said gloomily. "My own fault, too; if I hadn't turned right when I did, it wouldn't have..."

"My fault," she disputed. "I should have checked my fire-"

Kisaka opened his mouth, but Ken beat him to it. "Shut up, why don't you," he said wearily. "Both of you. Ahmed, you would have been smashed if you hadn't made that turn; and Cagalli, you couldn't have known what was about to happen. Why don't you just remember that this kind of things happens in combat; Murphy's fell presence is everywhere."

Cagalli smiled. "I suppose you have a 'lesson' for this, too?" She'd heard about _those._

"Yeah. Lesson Thirty-five: Friendly fire isn't." He looked up at the battle raging amongst the gargantuan war machines; it looked like Kira had gotten the accuracy problem taken care off, because he was now actively engaging the BuCUEs again. "Well, I suggest you three get as far away from the battle zone as you can, with that crippled truck; I need to get airborne again." He started back toward his machine.

"Wait!" She grabbed his arm. "I'm going with you."

Ken glanced at her. "Excuse me?"

"That machine has a gunner's seat, right? So give me a chance to shoot back at them." Cagalli met his eye -eyes- challengingly. "Unless you have a problem flying with women?"

The brief flicker in his visible eye, and the momentary facial tic, told her that what she'd just said had struck a chord. But he said only, "No, I don't; I've flown with female pilots before." He jerked his head at the Raptor. "Then hurry up; I've got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

Cagalli climbed into the Raptor's rear seat, and once again noted just how good the technologies Morgenroete had developed with the Earth Forces were. This machine was state of the art, no doubt about it; Falcon was strapping himself in as though he did it every day. 

_Which he probably does,_ she thought, securing her own restraints._ He didn't get to be ZAFT's highest-scoring ace by not practicing. But what's with that power cable?_ Like Sophia, she didn't bother to ask. If he wanted to tell her, he'd do so in his own good time.

"You secure back there?" Ken called.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Good; I'm giving you control of the cannons; don't even bother trying to use the Death Blossoms, though. Few people can handle them at all, and they're power hogs in atmosphere."

"Right." As the machine took to the skies again, Cagalli examined the controls, attempting to get a feel for the machine as fast as she could. "Hey, Ken," she said after a moment, "I think there's something heading this way."

"What?" He glanced at his own display. "Uh oh." Another heat signature appeared... and he recognized it, though he expected the weapons had been upgraded since he last saw the specs. "We've got a LaGOWE approaching," he said calmly, maintaining his detachment. "If my luck is as bad as I think it is, that'll be a certain former subordinate of mine, who wants very much to kill me."

"What did you do to him?" she asked curiously.

"I killed him." His fingers flew over the controls. "Unfortunately, I didn't kill him quite as dead I'd intended." The pilot keyed his radio. "Kira, what's your status?"

"I got the accuracy problem figured out," Kira replied, lining up on a BuCUE. "Compensate for the heat convection, and..."

"Got it." Ken pulled down his keyboard and started typing. "Look, you'll have to handle those BuCUEs; I've got a bigger fish to play with."

"Roger that." Kira didn't know what Falcon was talking about, but he'd learned to just take the more experienced pilot's word for things, at least in battle. "I'll be fine."

"Good." Not that the ace expected anything else; his young -_Young, sure; and you're not?_- friend had learned well from his own example, and was a natural pilot, to boot. He wouldn't have any problems. "Now, Cagalli," Falcon said to his gunner, "I suggest you charge the cannons; I think we're about to have problems."

* * *

Kira, for his part, had put Ken's predicament completely out of his mind; as the ace had taught him, he was concentrating on his own job, and ignoring a problem which would undoubtedly be solved before long. _His_ problem was a trio of BuCUEs, and even if one of them had been disarmed, it could still knock him off-balance just by jumping at him, just like the batch from that last battle. 

Or they could try, anyway. This time he had the Aile pack, which gave him atmospheric flight capabilities; an invaluable advantage against the ground-hugging BuCUEs. They could jump, but not as high, and couldn't stay up for as long.

He'd need those advantages. These pilots didn't get into the Waltfeld team by being pathetic.

Kira jumped backwards a pace, using his verniers for a little extra push, and punched the weaponless BuCUE in the jaw, knocking it flying; then turned his attention to the one that still had its missile launcher. _That one will be the real threat, _he thought, watching it carefully, analyzing its movements; that was another thing Ken had taught him: to observe the enemy, and take advantage of his weaknesses.

Meanwhile, the third BuCUE had finally managed to get itself moving again. "That's better," Kirkwood said to himself. "Now let's show the Strike a thing or two." He got ready to move... but was shortly interrupted by his commander.

_"Kirkwood!"_ Waltfeld called._ "Get down here; I want to take a crack at that guy myself."_

"Yes sir!" Kirkwood replied instantly. He wasn't too pleased about having to turn his machine over to someone else, but on the other hand, watching the Desert Tiger work tended to be... interesting.

After annihilating a missile swarm with his CIWS, Kira maneuvered the Strike around to get a tactical advantage against the machine that had fired it. _"The best avenue for attack is from behind,"_ Falcon had told him, during a simulation run. _"With certain rare exceptions -such as machines with wired gunbarrels- mobile weapons can't fire backwards. Use that to your advantage, and take out the enemy as efficiently as possible."_

He had not, Kira noticed, encouraged him to use the same disarming tactics _he_ favored.

_Now I've got you,_ Kira thought. Strike's foot lashed out, catching the BuCUE in the leg and knocking it off-balance, and his rifle came up. He waited for the targeting circles to come together, tightened his finger on the trigger...

A missile barrage caught him in the back, throwing off his aim, and he cursed. _I should have figured,_ he thought, irritated with himself. Wrapped up as he was in his effort to destroy two of the BuCUEs, he'd forgotten the third, and now it was back with a vengeance.

"Okay, hotshot," Waltfeld whispered, bearing down on the Strike. "Let's see how well you do against _me."_ He smiled. "It won't be as easy as you think."

* * *

"Enemy entering firing range," Cagalli called. "Judging from what you've said, we're in _his_ range now, too." 

"Indeed," Ken agreed. _You've had military training somewhere along the line,_ he thought to himself. _I'm sure of it; but it doesn't matter right now._ "Be ready to fire the cannons; and don't wait for me to tell you. I expect my gunners to exercise initiative."

"As if I was planning to wait," she shot back, but without rancor.

Ken keyed his radio again, setting it to the ZAFT frequency he expected the LaGOWE to be using. His first transmission was not, of course, verbal; but this time he followed the hunting call with actual words. "Is that you, Victor, or has my luck changed for the better?"

"Now, why would I give you that pleasure, Boss?" Huckebein asked pleasantly. "You had to have known I'd be back; and you know why, too."

"Hmm..." Falcon frowned, mock-pensive. "You're back to take revenge for that time I managed to accidentally put turpentine in your coffee, right?"

His old subordinate barked a laugh. "Well, you haven't lost your sense of humor, I see. You know better than that." He paused. "I want to kill you."

"What a stunning revelation," Ken said dryly. "I'm sure Kyle Kreitzman wouldn't have been able to figure that one out; but then, that idiot could never find his own backside without radar, a laser designator, and inertial guidance."

Cagalli blinked at the interplay. She'd known that there _was_ a real, feeling person behind the facade -the way he opened up after she took off his eyepatch had proven that- but she was unaccustomed to such humor coming from him... biting though it might be. She didn't know who Kyle Kreitzman was, but she had the distinct feeling that Ken wasn't very fond of him.

Huckebein shook his head. "You know, Falcon, it never ceases to amaze me how you can talk so much in the middle of a battle. What is this, psychological warfare?"

"Ever hear of delaying tactics?" the ace shot back.

"Ridiculous," the ZAFT pilot snorted.

"Is it? Then why are we sitting around talking, instead of trying to blast each other to bits?"

Cagalli saw in that instant what the pilot had intended with his stream of chatter, and, without warning, targeted and fired the Raptor's beam cannons.

Though Huckebein's reflexes were good enough for him to jump clear, the speed and accuracy of the shot still surprised Ken. _That's remarkable... and she's no Natural, not with what she can do._ The conclusion, which he didn't really have time to dwell on, was born of a great deal of combat experience, watching and analyzing the differences between Natural and Coordinator battle tactics and reaction speed.

At the moment, it was irrelevant. "Good shot," he said simply. "It came close to working."

Cagalli snorted. "They say close only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades."

"True." Ken tapped controls, and Raptor's right-hand saber flashed into bright, fiery life. "Just remember one thing: while killing Victor would be ideal, the important thing is to remove him from the tactical situation. If that means disabling instead of killing, fine."

"Okay."

The LaGOWE now began to circle Raptor, moving quickly on its treads. "I should've expected a cheap shot like that from you, Falcon," Tempest sneered. "Just like that day, last year."

Victor let out a scream as his fingers fell away. "You bastard!" he shrieked. "You'll die for that!"

"You brought it on yourself, Victor," Falcon said coldly; he, too, was in considerable pain, and his left eye was blinded by the blood pouring over it. "Suffer a traitor's death; our friendship is no more."

Tempest's lips curled in a snarl of hate, and his blade came around, clutched in his remaining fingers. With all his strength, he brought the katana down in a diagonal slice...

Falcon parried the blow with absurd ease, and his own blade shot forward, plunging deep in his onetime student's chest...

"If you'll remember, Victor," Ken replied, watching the four-legged machine's movements carefully, _"you_ were the one who struck the first blow. Or do you want me to say I'm sorry for stabbing you in the chest?"

"It won't change your fate," Huckebein replied with a slight smile, "but it'd be a start."

The ace shrugged. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry I cut out your heart." He paused a beat, just long enough for his gunner to give him a strange look. "I'm sorry I cut out your heart instead of your head."

Tempest sneered again. "I should have known. Well, you're right you should be sorry you didn't finish me!" Abandoning the circling, his LaGOWE leapt forward, head-mounted double-bladed beam saber igniting as he tried to cut Raptor in half.

Ken hadn't been watching him for nothing. He anticipated the attack, sidestepped, and slashed down in one sleek motion. Blades of scarlet fire clashed, slid against each other, and flashed apart again in a beautiful yet deadly dance of fire.

He sighed, bringing the blade back up to guard. "We're going to be at this all day."

* * *

Kira was off-balance. Again. Because -again- he'd gotten a little overconfident. One of these days, he promised himself, he'd stop doing that. 

This time, it was because he'd gotten used to facing run-of-the-mill BuCUE pilots... and now he was dealing with the Desert Tiger himself.

Not that he was aware of it.

What Kira _was_ aware of was the fact that he was getting hammered. The three BuCUEs had assumed a delta formation, with two of them -including Waltfeld's- bombarding him with missiles, while the third, disarmed machine kept leaping into him, using full-contact maneuvers to keep him off-balance and give its fellows numerous openings for attack.

Kira cried out as the thoroughly-irritating machine hit him again, giving Waltfeld the chance to pepper him with missiles. _This isn't good,_ he thought. _I have to find some way to counter it; if I don't get the upper hand back, I'm doomed._ He couldn't even ask Falcon for help; the ace was busy dealing with an even more capable machine.

Waltfeld grinned to himself. "You're not gonna get so lucky _this_ time, hotshot," he murmured. "Even if you only use kinetic attacks, the Phase-shift still uses power to guard against each hit; and after seventy-six missile hits, the PSA is going down... along with power to the beam rifle." He'd studied the captured G-weapon data very carefully indeed.

Kira hit his verniers, arresting his fall before he could hit the sand, and managed to jerk to one side before a missile could hit the Strike full in the face. The pressure was building again, along with the tension; soon, spectacular things might be happening...

"So, you weird and wonderful pilot," Waltfeld called, unleashing another storm of fast-moving explosives, "how are you gonna get out of _this_ one?" Those missiles would reach the critical seventy-six mark...

Behind Kira's eyes, an amethyst seed shattered.

Strike very abruptly ceased all forward movement, going into full reverse... and bringing its Igelstellungs into perfect alignment with the oncoming swarm. The CIWS systems, while useless against hard targets, worked wonderfully against the missiles, and just a few short bursts were enough to destroy half of them; the rest consumed themselves in proximity soft-kills.

Waltfeld cursed. "He's good. All right, break and attack! If he doesn't get the chance to concentrate on any one of us..."

In the last battle, Kira had been hard-pressed to deal with _two_ BuCUEs... but this time, he had the mobility advantage of the Aile Striker, and a much better idea of desert fighting conditions; not to mention the Berserker state.

Eyes clear and calm, Kira dropped the Strike to mere meters above the sand, using the backwash from his thrusters to create a mini-sandstorm, which completely obscured the Strike from view for precious seconds. By the time Waltfeld's pilots knew what was going on, it was too late.

A single green dart blazed out of the storm, vaporizing sand as it went and penetrating the belly of the disarmed BuCUE as precisely as if Kira hadn't been trying to aim through a sandstorm. It blew the machine clean in half, the pieces soaring away in two different directions; the pilot was still alive, but the injuries he sustained from the landing would keep him out of action for a long time to come.

Waltfeld cursed again, and not nearly as mild as the first time. "Now you've gone too far, hotshot!" In tandem, he and his remaining subordinate charged the Strike, firing missiles and preparing for ramming attacks; surely even this strange pilot would have difficulty dealing with _that_ all by himself.

Perhaps he did... but Kira had a solution to that, too. He threw away his shield, snatched out his beam saber, and sliced into Waltfeld's BuCUE, cutting off a foreleg, one wing, and half his missile pod with one swift, smooth motion. Without waiting to see what became of the Tiger's machine, he let go of his beam rifle, caught the final machine's leg in the now-empty hand... and hurled it toward the conflict between Raptor and the LaGOWE.

* * *

Several things happened very fast. The BuCUE, guided by Kira's boosted instincts, sailed directly between Huckebein and the Raptor just as the LaGOWE was making another lunge; the result was that, instead of the head-mounted saber cleaving into Raptor's armor, it cut off a good chunk of the BuCUE's back end... just as Cagalli saw _her_ opportunity. 

Having so far felt slightly useless, she wasted no time in triggering the Raptor's cannons now. The twin beams of green death caught the four-legged machine squarely in the back, detonating the missile pod and ripping the entire machine to shreds.

Ken took a moment to pump his fist in a rare display of satisfaction. "Good shot," he congratulated; and turned his attention back to Huckebein. "Your friends are leaving, Victor; at least the ones who still can. Now, I'm afraid that I no longer have any time to play with you." _Besides,_ he thought to himself, _as annoying as you may be, I somehow think ZAFT isn't very happy with you, either. Right now, it may be to my advantage to leave you alive. If nothing else, you serve as a distraction... and, perhaps, a liability, which Patrick may eventually eliminate himself._

"Well, you'd better _make_ time, Falcon," Huckebein sneered. "Unless you want to just lie down and-"

Ken moved.

He fired the Panzer Eisen rocket anchor, catching the LaGOWE's back-mounted beam cannon, then pulled back savagely with Raptor's left arm. The cannon came off, while the G-weapon's _right_ arm was still moving.

For one as experienced as he, now that he'd acclimated to the environment, it was child's play to throw the beam saber in a spinning arc, cutting right through all four of the LaGOWE's feet... and just incidentally making sure its _only_ movement was by treads.

Tempest, for all his faults, knew when he was beaten. "Another time, traitor!" he snarled, and turned tail. "Commander Waltfeld, I suggest we bug out of here immediately!"

"Agreed," the Tiger replied. "All units, return to base immediately." He was, interestingly, in a much better mood than the once-dead masked madman. "That was fun," he murmured to himself. "Been awhile since I faced such a... challenging opponent." He smiled. "We'll meet again, Strike pilot. Count on it."

But if he could, he wanted to meet the pilot face-to-face before their next confrontation on the battlefield. It would be... interesting.

Raptor just stood by, letting them go. "Aren't we going to go after them?" Cagalli demanded.

Ken shook his head. "No, let them go; this battle is over." He shrugged. "Never let it be said that Victor Tempest isn't good at keeping himself alive; and besides, I have no particular desire to kill Andy Waltfeld." He glanced at the Strike, then at the resistance fighters, who had gathered to watch the conflict between the towering machines. "For now, it's time to regroup."

* * *

After Cagalli and Ken had exited the Raptor, and joined the assembled guerillas, Kira himself finally powered down his own machine and lowered himself to the ground. He'd taken his time about it, though; he'd been considering the events that had just occurred, and became increasingly disgusted as he did so. 

_They were nearly wiped out today, _he thought derisively,_ and for what? If Falcon and I hadn't turned up, they _would_ be dead. What's the use in fighting if you just throw away your lives like that?_

He actually had no idea if Falcon would agree with him or not; under other circumstances, he'd have assumed so, but not after seeing Cagalli leave the Raptor. That indicated to him that perhaps the ace's views were slightly different from what Kira might expect.

In any case, _Falcon_ would expect him to speak his mind, and he had every intention of doing so.

"Are you looking to get yourselves killed?" Kira asked without preamble. "Here, of all places?"

Cagalli looked at him suspiciously. _You'd better not say what I think you're about to say,_ she thought, anger building. _If you do..._

"You must have a death wish or something," he went on. "Are you actually trying to throw away your lives for no reason?"

"That's _it!"_ she snarled, running up to him. "You have _no_ idea what you're talking about! We all fought desperately; we're _still_ fighting desperately; all so that we can protect-!"

Kira slapped her.

Sahib and Kisaka looked slightly stunned, Ahmed turned a look of outrage upon the pilot, and Ken observed it all from behind his impassive facade. _He has a point, Cagalli,_ he thought analytically. You _did well out there... but it wasn't very bright to come here in the first place._

Kira evidently had much the same thought in mind. "Just what can you hope to protect when you've got nothing but _feelings_ for weapons?" he demanded harshly. _"Well?"_

No one had an answer to that... except, perhaps, the one among them who had come all this way because of his "feelings".

* * *

Author's note: Tassil has been razed to the ground, Victor Tempest is still making a nuisance of himself, and Kira and Waltfeld have met on the battlefield for the first time. Soon, the pair will meet again… this time, _off_ the field of battle. 

Okay, I know this chapter is up pretty fast, but I think I can safely say this one wasn't _rushed._ And yes, I realize Huckebein made a pretty poor showing this time around, but that'll change, as he becomes accustomed to his new machine. In his next appearance, he'll be a bit more of a threat.

Ominae, it'll be a little while yet before Ken's confederates make their presences known; but believe me, you'll know when they do. I'd call it…five or six more chapters, give or take; I should be able to compress Phases 20 and 21 into a single chapter, given how little significance "On a Calm Day" has for my purposes. Probably Phases 23 and 24, as well; I'll once again have an… interesting spin on the events on the island where Cagalli and Athrun crash land.

I'm afraid I _haven't_ seen Area 88, as it happens; in fact, I have no idea what it is. My anime interests are pretty much limited to Gundam, and of that, mostly Wing and SEED (I used to have some interest in G-Gundam, but gave it up because of its somewhat ridiculous premise).

Infinite Freedom, I actually have other, rather elaborate, plans for the Raptor, following its destruction. That won't be the last you see of it, believe me; pieces of it will be used for other purposes. As for Mu, your suggestion of giving him the Raptor has given me a couple of other ideas; and Sophia, well… let's just say I have a few notions along those lines.

There are problems with the idea of having Canard Pars turn up; foremost among them the fact that I no absolutely nothing about him beyond the fact that he's a failed product of the Ultimate Coordinator Project. At least with a couple of others that'll be turning up, such as Lowe Guele and Shiho Hahnenfuss, I have _some_ idea as to their backgrounds.

As regards the pairings… well, let's simply say the situation is still fluid. I have a couple of different ideas kicking around, one of which would require rather more creative thought than the other. Beyond that, I will not comment.

I do indeed have a certain fondness for birds of prey; in the case of Birds of a Feather, I simply thought it appropriate, especially given the existence of the Hawk of Endymion. But the battle cry thing… I'm not sure that's exactly Sophia's style, and besides, she, unlike her adopted brother, is a Natural. It's theoretically possible she could do it, but it wouldn't come as naturally -no pun intended- as it does for Falcon.

NukeDawg, thanks for reviewing, as always; I think I already responded to your comments in a review for your story, but in case anyone else thought I was referring to the ZGMF-X10A and the _Eternal,_ let me clarify here, as well: the thought had not even occurred to me. I was simply making use of a quote; I don't know where it originally came from -I originally ran across it in Wing Commander IV- but, having come across it a couple of other places, I think it's pretty old.

HeavyarmsBuster-01, you are quite correct; I was wondering when someone would notice that. In fact, if you look back, you'll note that in physical appearance, Ken is essentially a taller version of Heero, with an eyepatch. Same eye and hair color, for one -or is that two?- thing.

Lipana, welcome to the story; and actually, Cagalli didn't precisely "beat" Ken. If she hadn't knocked off his eyepatch, he'd have cleaned her clock in the end; what happened there was a fluke.

Not sure what you mean about being confused about Cagalli's genetic disposition; the series pretty clearly implies that she's a Coordinator, even if it never states it outright. On the other hand, if you're wondering why Falcon thinks of her as such, it's simply that he doesn't know better… at that point.

And no, Cagalli won't be flying the Skygrasper; as you saw in this chapter, I had other ideas. One consequence of this, as you might imagine, is that the events of Phase 24 will be somewhat… different. She'll still end up on the island, of course, but it won't go quite according to canon. (Of course, it didn't in my last story either, but this will be even further from the series.)

Centurious, glad you liked it; I hope my advice was at least somewhat helpful, by the way.

X-19A Infinite Justice, you're quite right about Ken thinking Cagalli isn't a Natural; that will be expounded upon later.

As for his eye, that was pretty much what I _wanted_ people to think; as usual, I preferred to keep the truth concealed until the proper moment.

Warp Ligia Obscure, Falcon does indeed have a unique SEED factor; as a consequence, he won't be using it as often as Kira does. But when he _does_ enter the Berserker state, the results will tend to be… spectacular.

Yes, I know I haven't yet explained why Falcon needs to connect to his mobile suit's power supply during battle; but, as usual, that's because I have a specific point in the story in mind for that. And the explanation might be a little different from what you expect…

I wouldn't say that Falcon got "trashed" by Cagalli; it was, as I mentioned earlier, more in the nature of a fluke. If his eyepatch hadn't been knocked off -or if he hadn't been in the middle of a desert- he would almost certainly have won eventually.

I don't quite know what you mean about my altering Cagalli's genetic nature; do you mean that I have her a Natural when she should be a Coordinator, or a Coordinator when she should be a Natural? It seems to me that the series -Phase 41 in particular- pretty strongly implies that she's a Coordinator. The only reason Falcon thinks of her as a Natural is because he has no way of knowing any different at that point.

The talk between Ken and Kira might not have done much good overall, at least at this point; but the ace will definitely be interfering with Flay's intentions more in a little while. You'll see what I mean.

As regards the DRAGOON System, perhaps Kira doesn't use the Strike Freedom's in atmosphere, but Rey Za Burrel certainly uses _his_ in atmosphere, or so I have read; seems to me that it _ought_ to work.

That's that, I guess; and I won't even bother to rant about how long it took me to write these blasted notes. Let me know what you think, and till next time: -Solid Shark


	16. Chapter 16: The Desert Tiger's Lair

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Desert Dawn Base, February 19th, C.E. 71

* * *

Ken leaned against one of the base's rock walls, and sighed to himself. Two days after the second battle with the Waltfeld team, he was finally beginning to regain his former energy; the sleepless nights that had followed _Archangel_'s arrival on Earth, combined with the effects of being under prolonged full-gravity, had left him much less active than usual for the first few days. Now, though, he was beginning to recover. 

_Which is probably a good thing,_ he thought to himself._ We've won both our engagements with Andy's people so far, but there was a little too much luck involved both times; and I have a feeling our next meeting on the battlefield will be a decisive one._

_Archangel_'s officers knew that, of course, and so did Sahib Ashman; which told Ken that before long, he'd probably be called in to exercise his tactical brains again._ No doubt they'll ask me to prognosticate for them,_ he thought irritably._ Just what do they think I am, some kind of oracle? I'm good -no, better than good- but I'm not infallible; GENESIS has proven that. If I had only known what Patrick planned from the beginning, maybe I could have stopped this before it began..._

But that wasn't really fair, the pilot admitted. The thing he feared might be the worst possible outcome, but that didn't mean Patrick wouldn't have found some _other_ way to accomplish his goal, without the great Grimaldi Falcon and his strategic genius. No, he was bright enough all by himself to have found a way to exercise the Shiva Option.

It still gave Ken a chill to think about the Shiva Option. There were two, actually; his own, original plan, and Patrick's more ambitious one. He shuddered to think of what his former superior's conception of Shiva had been, even before those final days. _A colony drop,_ he thought, remembered horror echoing in his mind. _Almost as bad as GENESIS... especially if he dropped more than one._ After the battles at L4, that was a very real, and very frightening, possibility.

And now, Ken was acting out a variation of the Shiva Option, completely blind; he literally made up his own part in it as he went along, while hoping Sparky, Leanne, and Tom could finish Shiva on their own. The data he had conveyed to them through Lacus Clyne would doubtless be invaluable; but in order for the machine he proposed to be completed, something vital to his nightmare also had to be ready, which meant he had a very narrow margin for achieving the goal for which he had sacrificed everything but his own life. Once one could be completed, so could the other; and from that moment on, the entire world would be living on borrowed time, whether it knew it or not.

It'll be a race, to see if my grand design can succeed before Patrick is ready for the true Shiva Option. Even if I succeed, I may be reviled as one of the greatest traitors of all time; yet that is far preferable to failure. For if I fail... then there may be no one left to spit upon my name.

"So, _there_ you are," a voice said, breaking into the pilot's thoughts. "Let me guess: you've been carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders again, right?"

Ken glanced up quickly, but saw it was only Cagalli. "You have a talent for cutting right to the heart of the matter," he noted. "As a matter of fact, I was just wondering how my people are doing right now; their task is not an easy one."

She snorted. "But easier than yours, right? At least _they_ don't have to make it all up as they go along. _You're_ the one who has to improvise all the time."

"That I do," he agreed. "On the other hand, it would at least seem I have a talent for it."

"So I've noticed," Cagalli said dryly. "First you hijack an Earth Forces mobile suit while your former comrades are busy stealing the rest, then wreak general havoc across millions of kilometers, and now you've helped bring about an unlikely alliance between Earth Forces soldiers and Desert Dawn resistance fighters. Yeah, I'd say you have a talent for it; must come in handy."

"Maybe so, but there are times when I wish I was just a little less brilliant." Ken's expression darkened. "Maybe then I wouldn't be in this position at all."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you might be too hard on yourself?"

He shook his head. "Don't you think I've thought about it? Even before my... precipitous departure, I examined the situation from every angle, and the only conclusion I could draw was that my actions led directly to Patrick's ability to carry out his mad plan." He grimaced. "Although, to be perfectly honest, there _was_ another way for him to achieve what he wanted."

That made Cagalli a little curious. "How would he have done that?"

He smiled humorlessly. "Ever think about what would happen if those abandoned space colonies at L4 were dropped on Earth?"

She jerked. "Even _he_ wouldn't..."

"Oh, yes, he would. Believe me, I worked very closely with the man, and I can tell you that Patrick desires nothing more and nothing less than the total extermination of all Naturals." Ken snorted. "He believes Coordinators are a new species, as if we somehow 'evolved' on our own. He doesn't seem to realize that it was Naturals who created us in the first place."

"Is he out of his mind?" Cagalli demanded. "That's crazy!"

"Oh, it's safe to say that Patrick isn't in his right mind anymore," he agreed. "Not since the Bloody Valentine; he lost his wife there." He shrugged. "On the other hand, a lot of other people lost friends and family that day, and not all of _them_ have gone this far." _Like me,_ he didn't add.

"Hey!"

Both turned at the shout, to see Ahmed hurrying toward them. "What is it, Ahmed?" Cagalli asked.

The youth pointed back the way he'd come, to the cave that served as a war room. "Sahib and the _Archangel_'s officers want you, Commander DiFalco."

Ken carefully avoided sighing. "What for?"

Ahmed shrugged. "Beats me. I'm just the messenger, remember? But I bet it has something to do with how we're gonna beat the Tiger."

The ace closed his eye. "Probably." He glanced at Cagalli. "I'll see you later; apparently I'm going to be busy for a little while."

* * *

Desert Dawn Base, War Room

* * *

"Glad you could join us, Falcon," Murrue greeted when the ace arrived; also with her were Sahib, Natarle, and Mu. 

Ken nodded. "Hello, Murrue." He raised an eyebrow. "So, just what, if I might ask, is going on?"

"We're looking to remedy certain... deficiencies in our capabilities," Sahib said bluntly. "Deficiencies that were demonstrated quite well in that last battle." He sighed. "Put simply, we do not have the capability to put much of a dent in the ZAFT forces in this region. Even with the _Archangel,_ our resources are limited."

"Rather severely," Mu agreed. "We left Heliopolis in a big hurry, never got proper provisions from Artemis, and had our resupply at the Eighth Fleet rudely interrupted by Le Creuset's attack."

"Which means," Natarle put in, "that we don't have much hope of defeating Waltfeld right now; let alone getting across two entire oceans to reach Alaska."

Ken nodded slowly. "That _is_ a problem," he murmured. "_Archangel_ may have state-of-the-art weapons and a couple of high-tech mobile suits, but she was never intended to go so far all by herself; even with all six G-weapons, she's supposed to be part of a fleet, not operating independently. That would be bad enough under normal circumstances, but going up against the Desert Tiger...? That could be bad." He looked up. "Do we have the ability to remedy this... deficiency, as you put it?"

Sahib nodded. "We do. There's a black market arms dealer operating in Banadiya, by the name of Al-Jairi. Not exactly the sort one would call trustworthy, but you'd be surprised by the sort of hardware he has access to. And besides, what gunrunner _is_ trustworthy?"

"Al-Jairi..." The pilot frowned. "I know the name; I heard about him the last time I was in this region. You're right, he's as trustworthy as anybody you're likely to find, with impressive contacts... but the man _doesn't_ come cheap. With him, you have to be prepared to pay an arm and a leg."

"Cost shouldn't be a problem," the guerilla leader said evenly. "That's not your concern. What _is_ your concern -and the reason we called you in- is figuring out exactly what we need; not just for getting rid of the Tiger, but for _Archangel_'s journey, as well."

Ken looked at him curiously. "Why should you care, once we're out of the area?"

Sahib folded his arms. "If you can help us defeat the Desert Tiger, we owe you; and we pay our debts, Commander, I assure you."

The ex-ZAFT ace raised a hand. "Relax, Sahib; I wasn't questioning your integrity. It was merely a question, that's all." His eye narrowed. "Let's see; first of all, what's the timetable?"

"We haven't established a time for our move," Natarle answered. "But we'll be seeing this arms dealer sometime tomorrow."

Ken nodded. "All right. I can have the list ready by then; but I'm afraid I can't accompany you to the meeting itself."

Murrue frowned. "Why not?"

"Because," Sahib answered for him, in a dry tone, "Commander DiFalco's face is not exactly unknown. Al-Jairi wouldn't turn him in to ZAFT, but he wouldn't trust anything we had to say with him present, either."

Natarle nodded. "Makes sense; most people won't be so ready to believe he's not with ZAFT anymore. Not after Endymion and Nova."

"Most people won't have seen me shoot down my own former comrades," Ken said quietly. "I notice there's no longer much question around here -or on the _Archangel-_ that I really have left ZAFT."

"It helps you have a reputation for keeping your word," Mu told him. "Admittedly, your defection makes people wonder a little, but overall..."

"I get the point." The ace nodded to himself. "All right, I should have a rough estimate of what we need by the time you leave tomorrow. Till then."

He swept out of the room, trench coat fluttering behind him, and Sahib shook his head. "He does have a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he?"

"Comes by it naturally," Mu opined. "Or maybe the legend of the Grimaldi Falcon's even infected him; hard to say. You can never tell what _that_ guy is thinking, unless he wants you to... or unless he runs into Rau Le Creuset. He despises the man."

"So I've heard."

* * *

_Archangel, _Hangar

* * *

Late at night, the _Archangel_'s hangar was a quiet place, empty of all save three mobile armors and the two still, silent mobile suits... and the one young pilot who slept within the Strike's cockpit, getting some much-needed rest where no one would think to look for him. 

No one, that was, except Murrue Ramius and Mu La Flaga, who stood at one of the upper hatches, overlooking the huge chamber.

"I wonder why he's taken to sleeping in the Strike like this," Murrue mused. "According to Chief Murdoch, this is the second time since we landed."

Mu shrugged. "Hard to say; but I think it has something to do with Flay. Those two are... together now, it looks like, but something in him seems to be resisting. I don't know, maybe it's Falcon's influence, but it looks like he's trying to get away sometimes."

"Could be." She frowned, as they stepped back out into the corridor. "But... I thought she was _Sai's_ girlfriend, wasn't she?"

"Used to be, at least." The Hawk stroked his chin. "And I've overheard the kids talking about it; apparently, this came as a shock to them, too. As far as I can tell, this came out of the blue, but it's fairly serious. I hear Sai nearly wound up in the Infirmary the other night."

Murrue blinked. "What happened?"

He smiled, with a trace of genuine humor. "Apparently, Sai figured out why Flay had been scarce lately, and tried to press her on what was going on. Unfortunately for him, they ran into Kira, and by the time the argument was over, Sai was in the dust."

She winced. "Ouch. And this came without warning, you said?"

"Well..." Mu hesitated. "Maybe not _quite_ without warning. I've done a little checking, and, combining what I heard from the students with some things Murdoch's told me, apparently Miriallia and Falcon have been keeping an eye on Flay ever since her father died. I guess Falcon put his Recon training to work, because he didn't seem very surprised; not that he _ever_ shows it when he's surprised, of course. But I think he knew something."

Murrue nodded slowly. "I guess that's not surprising; but that still leaves us with something of a problem." She glanced back at the hangar's hatch. "Flay obviously has some kind of influence over Kira now, and that may not be a good thing; either for his ability to defend the ship, or himself as a person. I don't think it's healthy for him. On the other hand, I'm not really sure what to do about it."

The pilot thought about that for awhile. "What about some shore leave?" he suggested finally. "A chance to get away from the ship for awhile might do him some good."

She considered that. "Not a bad idea," she decided. "When Natarle and the others go to Banadiya tomorrow, they could drop him off; maybe with one of the resistance fighters, to make sure he doesn't get lost or something. If Sahib agrees, probably Miss Cagalli; under the circumstances, she'd be the least conspicuous."

"Hmm. Yeah, that's true. Feisty, but less likely to attract attention." Mu raised an eyebrow. "Maybe send Falcon, too; I know he said it wouldn't be a good idea for him to go there, but that was for a recon mission, where he'd have been going places he shouldn't. For something like this, he should be fine; and with that sword of his, he'd make short work of any trouble they'd be likely to run into."

"All right." Murrue paused. "But what if he runs into the Tiger himself?"

"The odds are against that. But if he does..." The Hawk's expression turned slightly grim. "I hope that either Waltfeld is one of those who's willing to settle the score with him in battle, or Falcon has the guts to take matters into his own hands."

* * *

African Community, Banadiya

* * *

_This place hasn't changed a bit,_ Ken thought, as the jeep arrived at the preplanned location. _Or at least, not since my last visit; one wonders what it was like _before_ ZAFT occupied._

He, Kira, and Cagalli exited the jeep, all wearing civilian clothing, and Natarle -also out of uniform- nodded to them. "We'll see you back here in four hours, Commander- I mean, uh, Ken, Kira." She seemed a little uncertain; the more so because Ken had pointed out to her the inadvisability of calling him by his rank or even by his nickname here.

_"There aren't that many people who go by the name Falcon, Lieutenant,"_ he'd told her._ "Any ZAFT man would make the connection without much trouble."_

"I'll... see you later," she finished lamely, and the vehicle drove off.

"Not very comfortable out of uniform, is she?" Ken commented quietly. He'd exchanged his usual gray trench coat for black for this excursion, and once again wore sunglasses instead of his eyepatch. "Odd; it doesn't bother _me_ any."

"You're used to being out of uniform," Cagalli pointed out. "You spent four months on Heliopolis, after all." She almost mentioned the typical ZAFT individualism, but recalled where they were, and held her tongue.

"You've been here before, right?" Kira asked. "Last year, you said?"

The ace nodded. "That's right; a goodwill tour that apparently didn't do much good, at least not with the resistance groups. One tried to make a move during my trip, and got blasted to rubble." He looked up at the clear desert sky. "It was out at Talbadiya, a factory district a few hundred klicks from here. One of my people had a hand in that."

Cagalli gave him a sharp look. "One of the Gray Demons helped with that? Who?"

"Well," Ken corrected himself, "that was actually before the Demons were formed; but it was her actions here that led to my selecting her. Her name's Shiho Hahnenfuss, and last I heard, she's actually still alive. She wasn't with us at Endymion, fortunately."

"It's weird," Kira commented, looking around. "I believe you when you say the resistance groups didn't take it very well... but it looks so peaceful here."

His companions exchanged glances. "Show him, Cagalli," Ken said at last. "He'll have a better idea of what's going on then. Meanwhile..." He adjusted his sunglasses. "I'm going to take a look around. I'll meet you two in an hour or so, at that restaurant."

Cagalli nodded. "Okay. Be careful; if you're compromised, so are we."

"Think I don't know that?"

The ace disappeared into the crowd, and Kira looked at Cagalli, puzzled. "What was he talking about?"

She sighed. "Easier to show you. Believe me, this place isn't nearly as peaceful as it looks; the Desert Tiger saw to that."

* * *

After leaving his companions to do their shopping -a mission which provided one reason for his absence; he knew about as much about shopping as he did about world-class finger painting- Ken had faded out of the crowds and into the back alleys, a place in which he felt much more at home. During his previous time here, he'd made a point of learning how to get around without being found, and now he blessed his foresight. 

_Recon,_ he thought, climbing a fire escape._ I couldn't manage it that first night; but now I know the area better, and the situation, and I'm not as rusty._ Reaching the rooftop, he cautiously made his way to the edge, and peered out over the streets._ Intelligence is what we need; especially since there were reports of Blue Cosmos activity here. If those scum really _are_ here, we need to know about it; and I may need to act preemptively, to make sure they don't get the drop on me or something._

From here, Ken could see Kira and Cagalli going about their business; it amused him some to note that Cagalli did the shopping, while Kira stood around holding the bags and looking out of his depth. _Either he doesn't know much about shopping either, or he's not used to being in a place like this._ He was also pleased to note that the two seemed to be getting along a little better than they had when they first ran into each other in the desert. No longer did it look like Cagalli was ready to hit her companion on a moment's notice.

His gaze shifted away from them, examining the whole area. It wasn't just his recon training, though that was part of it; mostly, it was one of the things that had made him such a fiendishly effective strategist: he observed everything, took note of everything, and made his plans after gathering every scrap of information he could find. In this case, what he was watching for was the telltale signs of weapons on the various passers-by. Difficult to see from where he was, but not impossible.

Especially considering that his sunglasses had a few tricks built into them, like magnification.

_Hmm..._ Ken thought._ A few armed pedestrians about; bodyguards, from the looks of things, or soldiers on guard duty. What would Andy Waltfeld be doing having his people out here?_ His mind considered the variables._ Random maneuvers; probability: six percent. Highly unlikely. Soldiers out for a stroll, but unwilling to go unarmed; probability: thirty percent. Possible, but unlikely. Unscheduled exercise; probability... unknown; schedule unknown, not all variables known. Probability: thirty to forty percent._ His eyes narrowed._ Andy Waltfeld out for a day trip undercover; probability: ninety percent._

That determination wasn't calculated to make the pilot feel at ease; but he pushed that aside, while he considered his own course of action. _Option One: leave, before Waltfeld can find me, and pretend I was never here. Possible... but I don't believe in abandoning my comrades. Option Two: confront Andy directly, before he notices Kira and Cagalli. Again, possible; maybe safest, too. He already knows _Archangel_ is here, so my presence won't come as much of a surprise. Still... Option Three: join my friends when they reach their table, and wing it from there. Hmm..._

Ken smiled to himself. In the end, it all came down to Lesson Seven: Leave no one behind. Never abandon your own. Not to mention Lesson Ten: The more complex the plan, the greater the chance of failure. _Improvising, after all, is as simple as it gets._ Besides, he adhered to the so-called KISS Principle: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

That decided him. He climbed down from the roof, and slowly, casually meandered his way toward the chosen rendezvous. Further intelligence gathering was probably pointless at this point, anyway. _Remember Lesson Eleven,_ he told himself. _Even if you _are_ the one doing the intelligence gathering._

Lesson Eleven: "Military Intelligence" is usually a contradiction in terms.

* * *

"We were wondering when you were going to turn up again," Cagalli remarked, when Ken slid into a seat at the table. "Find out anything interesting?" 

He shrugged. "Just that there are guys in civilian clothes carrying guns out here; my bet is soldiers on alert. I don't know what they're expecting, but..."

"Maybe it's a drill," Kira suggested.

"Maybe." Ken frowned. "But I don't think so. My read on it is that Andy Waltfeld himself is out here somewhere. I doubt he knows _we_ are... but his people are expecting trouble. That could be good or bad from our perspective." He shrugged again. "Anyway. Did your trip go well?"

_I think I'll stay out of this conversation,_ Kira thought._ Besides, I'm not even sure what I'm doing here._ It seemed to him that he'd been dragged along on a thinly-disguised reconnaissance mission, and he had no clue what he might bring to it.

He didn't realize he was the reason this particular jaunt had been organized in the first place.

"We got what we were after," Cagalli said, in response to the question. "Except for the stuff that Flay girl asked for. I mean, come on. All this designer stuff... doesn't she realize we're in the middle of a warzone here? Even if we could find it, this isn't the time for such frivolous things."

Ken nodded sagely. "I know. Unfortunately, Flay happens to be the daughter of a now-deceased politician, and thus has a taste for the finer things in life, which she hasn't quite managed to shed yet."

"Well, she'd better do it soon," she grumbled. "This is crazy."

"Oh, she'll learn," he assured her. "That's how it happens in war: either you learn the rules, or you die before you can. Darwinism in action."

Kira winced, hearing Flay talked about in such a manner, but it didn't exactly surprise him. His mentor's opinion of the girl was hardly a secret, especially after their little... discussion, after the first battle in the desert.

Soon, they had ordered food -partly as cover, partly because all three were genuinely hungry- and Ken went back to checking his surroundings. Something still didn't feel right to him; and when his companions weren't looking, he discretely hooked one of his power packs up to his chest plate, under his jacket. _If anything goes wrong, I can't afford _that_ to quit on me at an inconvenient moment._

Then his eyes noticed someone approaching their table, and his muscles tensed. The man wore a yellow shirt, a pair of shades, and a straw hat, making him nearly unrecognizable, but something about him seemed familiar to Ken... unpleasantly so.

The man arrived moments after their food. "Excuse me for intruding," he said, "but I happened to notice what you ordered, and thought I'd give you the benefit of my culinary knowledge." He nodded at the plates on the table; Cagalli had suggested "kebabs", something Ken vaguely remembered from his last visit here. "Those, as it happens, go great with yogurt sauce."

Ken and Kira exchanged slightly bemused glances, but their feisty friend seemed to be more interested in setting this interloper straight. "That's ridiculous," she retorted. "Everyone knows..."

_Something _really_ isn't right here._ Ken's blood ran cold._ It _is_ him. The guards... and besides, only he would talk like that to a couple of "total strangers". Which means... my cover is blown._ Every instinct in him clamored to abort the mission, but it was far too late for that; and besides, the Grimaldi Falcon had only ever aborted one mission, and he wasn't about to do it again today._ So instead, we alter the paradigm; do something Andy would never expect._

"Why don't you drop the act, sir?" the ace said wearily. "You are who you are, and we know it."

Instantly, the gazes of the other three snapped to him. The stranger was, perhaps, the most startled of them all; despite the pilot's fears, he _hadn't_ tumbled to his identity... until now. "It's you," Andrew Waltfeld said quietly. "I should have known. No one else would be here."

Cagalli glared at Ken. "Just what do you think you're-"

"He already knows who we -or at least you- are," he told her. "He wouldn't be here if he didn't." His gaze went back to the ZAFT commander. "Isn't that right, sir?"

Waltfeld nodded unwillingly. "You're good, Commander; and why are you calling me 'sir'? Last I checked, we're the same rank."

"That was before," Ken replied. "But if you insist." He looked away for a moment, replacing the sunglasses with his trademark eyepatch. "What are you doing here, Andy?"

"Well, since you asked-"

"Wait!" The cross-trained pilot had finally realized what was bothering him, and it _wasn't_ his old comrade's presence. "Hit the dirt!"

Ken DiFalco did not shout. Did not even raise his voice. Kira knew that... and knew that when he _did_ shout, it was for a very good reason.

The younger Coordinator lunged forward, knocking Cagalli to the ground and out of the line of fire -assuming there was one- while Waltfeld kicked the table over, arranging it into makeshift cover. At the same moment, Ken dropped to the ground, one hand reaching into his trench coat... just as the first rocket lanced out from a rooftop and impacted in the street mere meters away.

"What's going on?" Waltfeld called over the sudden din of weapons fire.

"Blue Cosmos attack!" Ken replied, rolling to the right. "Nobody else is this obvious!"

Already, the terrorists were appearing on the street, firing indiscriminately with fully-automatic rifles. Civilians scattered everywhere, while the plainclothes soldiers the ace had noticed earlier returned fire on the Blue Cosmos men.

"Stay down!" Waltfeld ordered his own companions. "Let us handle this!"

"Not a chance," Ken said tightly. "It isn't in me to rely on others in a situation like this." He leapt to his feet... and drew his sword.

Several gunmen immediately shifted aim toward the new target, but the pilot was unfazed. As he had done in Tassil, his first night back on Earth, he raised his katana to a guard position, and began deflecting bullets with it. Some went wide, a couple struck the men who'd fired them in the first place, and several missed simply because the whirling blade threw off the gunners' aim.

Ken wasn't a super-soldier; he wasn't perfect. The inevitable result of his slightly insane course of action was first a bullet that grazed his head, cutting into his flesh and dripping blood into his right eye; and then another struck him in the right side, near where he'd been shot at Heliopolis. But his only response was a grunt of pain, and then he was among them.

Kira winced, seeing a head and body drop away from the fight, completely independent of each other, and looked away when other bodies started dropping. Ken hadn't even moved from his chosen spot; just kept whirling his extremely sharp blade around, deflecting the odd bullet and cleaving any bodies that got too close.

Cagalli, however, hadn't looked away for an instant; unlike Kira, she'd seen ground combat before, if not quite this... brutal. So she spotted the danger at the same time Waltfeld did: another man, edging out of an alleyway, carefully aiming his weapon at the whirling dervish in the middle of the street. "Look out!"

"Down!" Waltfeld shouted at the same instant.

Both warnings came a moment too late. The terrorist's full-auto burst mostly missed, but two rounds caught the pilot in the left shoulder, spinning him around. _Careless,_ he cursed himself as he fell. _Stupid, cowboy maneuver..._ As he fell, though, Ken used his good arm to send his sword through the air in a spinning arc toward the overturned table.

Kira instinctively caught the weapon, though he had no idea what to do with it. Somehow he sensed Ken had wanted him to do something with it, but he didn't know what.

Then, just as Waltfeld blew away the gunman who'd shot the young pilot, Kira saw what Ken had: another man, on their side of the street, lining up on Waltfeld.

There was no time to think, no time to consider the fact that the ZAFT commander was his enemy. There was only time to act, and that's exactly what he did. Holding the sword awkwardly in one hand, Kira lunged from concealment, snatched up a fallen gun, and hurled it at the terrorist's gun.

It caught the man completely by surprise, and by the time he'd recovered, Kira was there, swinging the blade. "For the preservation of our blue and pure-!"

The Coordinator very nearly cut off the man's head, but at the last instant reversed the weapon, hammering the terrorist in the chin with the pommel, instead; there was a snapping noise, and he fell. He was just as dead with a snapped neck, but it wasn't as messy as the alternative.

Very suddenly, it was all over. There was no more gunfire, no more blood spraying through the air; and various people put away their weapons, while Kira and Cagalli tried to make sense of what had just occurred.

A man in ZAFT green, Martin DaCosta, walked over. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked, holstering his own pistol.

Waltfeld nodded, removing his sunglasses. "Yep, I'm just fine; thanks to these guys." He strode over to the fallen ace. "You okay, DiFalco?" he asked, extending a hand.

Ken accepted the help, pulling himself to his feet. "Could be better," he grunted. "Took a couple hits back there; but I've been worse, too."

The Tiger nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I heard about that. Listen, let's get you guys-"

He was interrupted by another voice, this one addressed to Ken. "Hello, son. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

* * *

Ken spun as fast as his injuries would permit. "Just who are you?" he demanded of the Germanic-looking fellow who had just called him son. "Identify yourself, or be shot." The way his good hand darted into his coat left those watching with little doubt that he'd do exactly what he threatened. 

The man sighed. "I suppose you wouldn't remember me, would you, Kenneth La Flaga? You were only nine months old, when we were separated."

_Nine months old..._ Ken's mind flashed back to what Sophia had told him about his origins. "Doctor Heinrich Metzinger, I presume?" he said coldly.

Waltfeld's eyes narrowed. He'd heard things of Metzinger, none of them good... and he _certainly_ knew the name La Flaga. _Does that mean...?_

Metzinger nodded approvingly. "At least you know some of it," he said, clearly pleased. "That will make things easier, in the long run."

"Explain," Ken ordered curtly.

The German doctor shrugged. "Only a little, for now; but I suppose _some_ background is necessary. Tell me, my son, do you know the meaning of 'Der Schreckick Eins'?"

He tilted his head. "The Terrible One," Ken translated. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's what you are," Metzinger said simply. "My greatest project; not all my own plan, perhaps, but I found my employer's pet project useful for my own purposes. You were created nearly eighteen years ago now for a purpose, and it seems I was quite as successful as I'd hoped."

"I don't care about your pet project, Doctor," the ace snapped. "What I do care about is learning just what you're doing here, and why you've decided to butt in on my life again after seventeen years."

"I would have done it sooner, had I been able to find you," the doctor replied. "Your adoptive parents were helpful in the sense that they kept you safe and sound, but unhelpful in the sense that they made it difficult to track you down." He spread his hands. "I'm here to take you back, son. We have much unfinished business, you and I, don't we?"

"Just what makes you think I care about that?" His eye narrowed dangerously. "I told you: I don't care about your blasted 'experiment'; and I have a job to do, which has nothing to do with you. Why should I go with you?"

"Aren't you curious?" Metzinger asked. "Don't you want to know the details of your birth; the truth of your extraordinary piloting abilities? Besides, this is far more important than some petty squabble between two nations. We're talking about the future here, my son."

"Stop calling me that," Ken hissed, getting angry. "And I have no intention of going anywhere with you."

"It's the only way you'll ever learn the truth-"

"I don't care about that," he snapped back. "And I suspect I have another source, anyway." _Sophia,_ he thought. _You have a lot of explaining to do._ "All that matters to me right now is this war; you can go play with your chemistry set without me." He turned away.

Metzinger sighed. "We have to do this the hard way, do we? You're coming with me, Ken, whether you think you want to or not." He reached into his white lab coat.

Kira didn't like the looks of it; and he was already unnerved by what the strange man had been spouting. "Falcon, catch!" he called, and threw the pilot's sword back to him.

Ken caught it, understanding in a flash that his so-called "father" was about to try something untoward, and spun around. The sword flashed in a smooth arc, before returning to its scabbard under his coat, apparently without hitting anything.

That wouldn't have mattered in any case; Waltfeld chose that moment to fire his own sidearm, converting Metzinger's head to spattered bone, brain, and blood.

Of course, the doctor was already dead. Even as Ken walked away, his torso slowly, almost gracefully, slid off his legs.

* * *

It had all happened so quickly, it was over almost before it began, as far as Kira and Cagalli were concerned. First the abrupt discovery that their new tablemate was the Desert Tiger himself, then a Blue Cosmos attack, and finally some bizarre individual showing up, having a brief, acrimonious exchange with Ken, and then getting sliced in half. They just weren't sure yet how to react to it. 

Waltfeld, however, took it more or less in stride; and he walked over to join Ken at Metzinger's corpse. "Well, _that_ was interesting," he commented, picking up the weapon the doctor had attempted to draw. "Whoever he was, Commander, he didn't like you very much." He handed the peculiar-looking gun to the ace.

Ken examined it, holding it in his good hand. "So I see," he grunted a moment later. "A needler, if I'm not mistaken; fires small darts tipped with South Sea cone shell venom. I'd have been dead before I realized I was hit." He grimaced. "If I had to guess, he decided it wasn't worth the trouble to bring me in alive; he'd just take my corpse, study it, and begin anew."

The Tiger nodded. "So you _did_ know the guy."

"In a manner of speaking. It's been seventeen years, though, and I only found out about my connection to him a few weeks ago." The pilot met the older man's eyes. "And yes, my name is La Flaga. It's a very long story, Commander."

"No doubt." Waltfeld turned back to the other two teenagers. "Well, how's about we head to my place for a little while, people?"

Cagalli was instantly suspicious. "Why should we? I don't trust you."

The Tiger sighed. "Look, Miss, you really don't have anything to worry about; this has nothing to do with who you may or may not be. I'm just being friendly, that's all."

Kira attempted to politely wave it off. "It's okay, sir, really..."

"I won't take no for an answer," Waltfeld told him. "Your friend there is covered in all sorts of sauce; can't let you go home like that. And you saved my life, remember. Besides," he added, nodding at Falcon, "Falcon over there should get those wounds wrapped up ASAP."

Kira looked to his mentor, and Ken considered the matter. "All right," he said at last. "Kira, Cagalli, we'll be fine, I think. And Andy's right: my injuries should be attended to." He looked over at Waltfeld. "Just remember, Commander: we need to be back here in a few hours at most, or people will begin to ask awkward questions; and I have a sister who would be quite happy to bomb your house, if she thought the situation warranted it."

The Tiger laughed. "I'll remember that, DiFalco."

* * *

Banadiya, Andrew Waltfeld's Headquarters

* * *

"Same old building, I see," Ken observed, as the small group climbed the steps to the house's -no, mansion's- front door. 

Waltfeld shrugged. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

A black-haired woman in blue and white was waiting for them when they entered. "Good to see you back, Andy," she greeted. "I hear you ran into some trouble out there."

"Nothing we couldn't handle, Aisha." He smiled. "That is, me and these two."

Aisha examined the pair, and their female companion. "Commander DiFalco," she noted. "It's been awhile; glad to see you again."

Ken's eyebrows went up. "Not many in ZAFT would say that today."

"Nobody's perfect." She looked over at Kira. "So, this is the guy you've been so interested in lately?"

Waltfeld nodded. "That's him, all right; no doubt about it. Now, how about you get the girl cleaned up, and meet us in the library in a little bit?"

"Sure thing." Aisha turned to Cagalli. "Follow me, okay? I'll get you cleaned up in no time."

Though clearly reluctant, Cagalli went with the Tiger's subordinate; she hoped Ken was right in thinking they weren't in danger here.

"Now, Falcon," Waltfeld went on, "I suggest you get those bullet holes taped up; those must hurt."

"They're not fun," Ken admitted; he'd been a little more willing to let his thoughts show in his expression and body language lately, Kira noted. "I'll be right back." He remembered where the Tiger kept his medical supplies from his last visit here, the previous year.

The Tiger then gestured to a side room. "In here," he told Kira. "You can relax for awhile," he added. "There won't be any trouble from those terrorists _here."_

Actually, Kira suspected that particular Blue Cosmos cell wouldn't be giving _anyone_ anymore trouble; he'd seen the wreckage of human bodies left by his friend's incredibly keen sword. _There might be more where they came from,_ he thought, _but maybe they'll think twice next time._ Probably not; but a little hope never hurt anything.

"I must apologize, by the way," Waltfeld commented, handing Kira a cup of coffee. "I'm actually rather fond of Banadiya, and I wish you could have had a better introduction to it." He grimaced. "Unfortunately, it seems our late friends had other plans. My people knew there was a cell operating here, but we hadn't yet tracked them down; and we certainly never expected today's attack." He chuckled quietly. "Obviously, though, they didn't have anyone of your friend's caliber doing their planning, or they might have noticed who the guy in the trench coat was, and rescheduled. Of course, _I_ didn't recognize him, so maybe I'm expecting a little much from two-bit terrorists."

Kira didn't know what to say to that; but his host didn't seem to expect a response anyway, so he simply turned his attention to his surroundings. It seemed to be some sort of sitting room, with the usual scattering of furniture, as well as a peculiar-looking object sitting on a table. It looked like a fossil; but he couldn't think of any animal that looked quite that strange. Except...

Waltfeld nodded, noting his interest. "Yep, that's Evidence 01, all right," he told the youth. "A small reproduction, of course; the original is about twenty times that size, and stored at Aprilius One, to boot." He raised an eyebrow. "Ever seen the real thing?"

"Only pictures," Kira replied. "I've never been to Aprilius One." He gazed intently at the object, almost mesmerized by it. "The proof of extraterrestrial life, right?"

"That's what they say," the Tiger confirmed. "Don't know why they call it a Whalestone, though," he went on, sounding distinctly puzzled. "Does it look anything like a whale to you?"

The teen considered that. "Only if whales had wings," he said. "Which I don't remember from science class."

Waltfeld laughed. "That's the spirit, youngster. Yeah, it is a little- Oh, hello, Commander," he interrupted himself, as the door opened. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

Ken shrugged with his good shoulder. "Not much that can be done here, Andy," he said, wincing. "I got the bleeding stopped, but anything more will have to wait until I get to proper medical facilities."

"Ah. Well, I don't think I'll be keeping you _that_ long, Falcon; you'll be able to get patched up soon enough."

"Don't worry yourself too much on _my_ account, Andy," the pilot told him. "Remember, I was a lot worse off after Endymion."

"That's true," the Tiger acknowledged. "By the way," he said, changing the subject, "do you have any idea what the story was with that guy you cut in half out there?"

Ken allowed himself a slight grimace. "Only a slight one. I know he was the one responsible for my birth, and that some kind of experimentation was involved, but beyond that, I have no more idea than you. What I do know is that he didn't care much about keeping me alive; which was quite sufficient reason for me to deal with him. I can't afford to die yet."

"Ah, yes..." Waltfeld nodded. "The mysterious mission you're supposedly up to. Mind telling me about it?"

"Actually, I do," the ace said coldly. "In a manner of speaking, that is. I'd really like to tell you more -perhaps then you'd understand why my desertion and subsequent defection was so imperative- but I'm afraid it's much too dangerous." He took the coffee cup the Tiger offered him. "But I _can_ tell you this: the next time you're in the PLANTs, you should make inquiries about Project GENESIS. That might be an eye-opener for you."

"I'll do that." And Waltfeld meant it; he wanted to know what could possibly have made this young man, previously such a staunch patriot and the mastermind behind some of ZAFT's best operations, leave behind everything he held dear, in an apparent betrayal of _everything_ he believed in.

_Unless... he's just using the Earth Forces to further his own ends... _That possibility seemed very likely, all of a sudden; the Grimaldi Falcon was known to be ZAFT's modern-day Machiavelli, their most diabolical thinker. He was obviously sincerely defending the legged ship, but it would be entirely in character for him to be using the_ rest_ of the Earth Alliance for his own purposes.

The problem was that Commander Kenneth DiFalco's plans could, at times, be so complex that no one but the man behind them could see the true objective. There were rumors that an upcoming ZAFT operation that he'd planned, one which would soon, with luck, be approved by the Supreme Council, was one such case of misdirection; it was entirely possible that this was another. _And that's why this guy is confusing everyone from Patrick Zala on down; nobody can figure out if he's a traitor or just engaging in the most insane covert operation even _he_ has ever devised._

Giving up the analysis of Ken's motives as a lost cause, Waltfeld turned his attention to Kira. The youngster might not realize it -obviously didn't, in fact- but the Tiger knew exactly who he was. Not his name, perhaps... but there was no doubt that this was the Strike pilot.

Meeting the reality was something of a surprise. Waltfeld hadn't expected him to be so young. But that merely reinforced the conviction he'd come to after watching him fight: that the Strike pilot was not, in fact, a Natural at all. That he was actually, like his mentor, a Coordinator. _I don't know what he's doing fighting for the Earth Forces... but the only Naturals _I _know of who can pull stunts like that are the Victorian Kestrel, and the Hawk of Endymion. And since he's neither female nor in his twenties..._

The Tiger shrugged mentally, and shook of his thoughts. "That thing is the real cause of the war, you know," he said, nodding at the fossil. "Go far enough back, and you'll find it at the root of the conflict."

Ken nodded in agreement -he'd studied George Glenn and his achievements in great detail- but Kira gave him a blank look. "What do you mean, sir?"

The answer to that particular question had to wait, as the door opened again. "Through here," Aisha said, and Cagalli, now wearing a green dress, stepped hesitantly in.

* * *

Kira's jaw dropped almost to the floor; he'd never seen Cagalli dressed like that. But Ken's reaction, for all its restraint, was even more interesting. 

The expression on his face was the same he'd had when he was shot.

In his mind, images of another blonde flitted past; memories from another time, when the woman in blue and gold had worn a very similar green dress, long before... _It's like seeing a ghost,_ Ken thought, feeling as though he'd been punched in the gut. _A piece of the past, brought back to life before my eyes... they look so much alike..._

Kira's thoughts were rather less profound, if they currently existed at all, and were more along the lines of, _Wow. _His mouth worked a few times, without any sound coming out, and then he said perhaps the stupidest thing possible.

"You're... a girl."

Instantly, Cagalli raised a clenched fist at him. "What did you think, huh?" she demanded. "You already knew that!"

Kira flinched back, raising his hands defensively. "No, I mean... uh..." Actually, he wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but it wasn't what had come out.

Aisha and Waltfeld both burst out laughing; as much at their exchange as at Ken's startled look. Neither of them knew the significance of it, so they simply found it amusing.

Kira and Cagalli both flushed, then sat on the nearby couch without another word, while trying to pretend what had just happened hadn't. _Oops,_ Kira thought, quite as embarrassed as his companion. _That wasn't a very smart thing to say, was it?_

Ken decided to break the uncomfortable silence. "I believe you were telling Kira about the root of the war?" he remarked to the Tiger.

Waltfeld nodded, still chuckling. "Uh, yeah, I guess I was. Anyway," he said, glancing again at the copy of Evidence 01, "when you think about it, it all comes down to that chunk of fossilized space whale that George Glenn brought back. First he announced the existence of Coordinators, then when he returned, he basically started it all with the study of this thing. That's what brought Coordinators to the forefront of history, and eventually led to the creation of the PLANTs."

Ken nodded. "And with the revelation and proliferation of Coordinators, it sowed the seeds of chaos," he said quietly. "Glenn, I think, didn't quite understand human nature. He was too much of an idealist to remember that humanity inevitably seizes upon differences as a reason to kill each other."

Cagalli gazed at him through narrowed eyes, looking between the ace and the ZAFT commander. "Just why are we having a civilized conversation here?" she demanded at last, eyes settling on Waltfeld. "Do you like to chat with your victims before you get rid of them?"

The tension that filled the room at that remark could have been cut with a knife. Kira edged a few centimeters closer to Cagalli, and Ken casually removed his trench coat, draping it on the couch, and thus revealing the bandages on his shoulder and side... and the sword sheathed at his left hip.

Waltfeld's own eyes narrowed momentarily, but an amiably smile remained on his face. "You've got lovely eyes, you know," he commented casually, and -apparently- irrelevantly. "Something... sincere about them." He stood, and meandered over to a table. "Very lovely eyes... and all too sincere," he went on, opening the table's drawer.

Ken watched him very carefully; he was tense enough that he didn't even find Cagalli's obvious outrage amusing. _Beware, Andy,_ he thought, good hand resting casually on his katana's hilt. _The most dangerous man..._

"The problem here," Waltfeld mused, "is that there are no clear rules for ending a war like this. In other wars, it's over territory, or resources, or some other clear objective. But this one is driven simply by mutual hatred, with no clear goal in sight. So how do you determine the winners and the losers?" He picked something up from within the drawer. "At what point do you put an end to it?" The cocked and locked pistol came out of the drawer, aimed straight at the couch where two of his "guests" sat. "When every single one of your enemies had been eliminated?"

Cagalli came out of the couch as fast as her dress permitted, backing into a corner; Kira quickly followed her, staying protectively between her and the gun... while the Grimaldi Falcon drew his sword with most of his usual swiftness intact.

Waltfeld glanced at the ace. "You'd face me with a sword, maimed as you are?" he asked, sounding mildly amused; in his condition, the young pilot was able to hold his blade in his right hand only. "Lesson Forty," the Tiger quoted. "'Resistance without strength is meaningless.'"

Ken didn't blink. "Lesson Thirty-seven: True strength is in the mind, not the body." His eye narrowed dangerously. "If I can make sure those two get out of here, it will have been worth it. Next to Kira's life, mine means nothing."

Waltfeld nodded. "Ah, yes; as I thought." He looked over at Kira, whose eyes were clearly searching for a way out. "You can't defeat all of us, you know," he said conversationally; his aim, however, had shifted to what he perceived as the greater threat, as represented by the wounded swordsman. "Even if you do have Berserker capabilities, you can't overcome the fact that you're not the only Coordinator here."

Cagalli, her hand on Kira's shoulder, blinked in shock. "What? You're a...?"

Kira managed a nod. "Yeah." _I'll explain later,_ he thought, promising himself that he would. _But not now._

"I have no idea what your reasons are for fighting against your own people," the Tiger went on. "No doubt they're good ones, at least in your own mind. But that doesn't change the fact that we _are_ enemies." He smiled slightly. "After all, the official reports may say that the Strike pilot is a Natural... but I'm not that gullible. I know exactly who and what you are, kid."

"And if you act on that," Ken said pleasantly, "I'll cut you in half." Metzinger's corpse proved that he was quite capable of it.

Waltfeld shook his head. "You'd actually try it, all by yourself, would you?"

"Lesson Thirty-six," another voice interjected. "'The most dangerous man is the one with nothing to lose.'" There was the distinctive sound of a pistol's slide being racked, chambering a round. "And he won't be all by himself."

The Desert Tiger turned to look, and his eyebrows went up. Kira stood as he had before, between his enemy and Cagalli; but now he held the gun he'd taken from Ken's trench coat, and if his eyes were still a little nervous, his aim was quite, quite steady. "Not bad," the ZAFT commander said respectfully. "I didn't even notice you grabbing it." He smiled. "Of course, your friend there always has been good at using his words to distract people from the true threat." He looked back at the ace. "Lesson Thirty-eight, right? 'Only seldom is true surprise achieved in battle; usually, it is simply that the commander misinterprets what he's seen all along'?"

The barest hint of a cold smile reached Ken's face. "Precisely, Commander. Though you should have known better; you saw Kira out there today."

"Yes, I did." Waltfeld looked Kira over. "So, you're willing to sacrifice your life for the girl, is it that right?"

"If I have to," Kira replied, managing to keep his voice steady. "We might not make it, but she will, if it costs us our lives; and you won't get out of this room."

"We'd make sure of that before we were cut down," Ken concurred. Inwardly, he was very impressed by Kira's actions here; and, more importantly, his attitude. _Didn't think you had it in you, amigo,_ he thought. _Flay hasn't managed to corrupt you all the way quite yet... Of course, after today she might not have the chance._

Waltfeld looked at them in silence for long moments, before finally smiling and lowering his weapon. "It kinda makes you wonder if there's no choice but for one of us to die," he said pleasantly.

Cagalli twitched. "You're letting us go?"

"Of course; this isn't a battlefield." He put away the pistol. "Today, Miss, we're meeting as fellow warriors; and yes, I know that you're one, too, dress or not. You have the look. Anyway, I have no reason to kill you here; and where would be the fun in killing helpless targets?" The Tiger smiled again. "Aisha will show you out; I'm sure you need to be getting back before your people start worrying too much, anyway."

Kira looked to his mentor, and Ken nodded fractionally. "Go. I'll follow; and keep the gun ready, just in case. If you know what I mean."

The younger pilot nodded. "Okay; but you'd better not take too long." He looked back at his companion. "Come on, Cagalli. Let's go."

As the two exited, Waltfeld called, "See you on the battlefield!" Then he looked over at Ken, who was only now returning his weapon to its sheath. "Just as well you stuck around, Falcon; I'd like to talk to you for a few moments in private."

The ace met his gaze cautiously. "Oh?"

"Yes." The Tiger folded his arms. "What you just proved, in my mind, is that however it may look to others, you genuinely believe in whatever mad scheme you're currently running; I know enough about you to know that you wouldn't be so willing to lay down your life for the kid otherwise. Now, I don't honestly know if what you're doing is really going to do the PLANTs much good; the fact that you've killed ZAFT pilots is evidence against that. But... you only killed when you had no choice, didn't you?"

Ken nodded slowly. "Yes. At Heliopolis, two GINNs; for all the good it did. Those simple-minded missiles blew the place up anyway. Then a single recon GINN in the Debris Belt -we couldn't risk being found just then- and six BuCUEs, the first night we were here." He closed his eye. "I didn't want to do that," he said quietly, "but I couldn't risk disabling attacks. Not when I'd never fought under full gravity before."

Waltfeld nodded. "I thought as much." He smiled slightly. "Now, what I wanted to say to you is this: I may not agree with what you're doing -I haven't decided yet, particularly since I'm not really _sure_ what you're doing- but you obviously believe it's for the good of the homeland, and I respect that. So, if you have any message you want to pass along, I'll make sure it gets where it's going."

The pilot considered that, and finally reached into a pocket of his trench coat. "Get this to the Clyne Residence," he said, handing the commander a disc, "and I'll be grateful."

The other man took it, frowning. "The Clyne Residence? Don't tell me the Chairman himself is up to his neck in whatever you're doing."

Ken snorted. "Hardly; I barely know the man. But the head of his bodyguard is a former member of my team, Sparky Cooper. He'll make sure it gets where it's going beyond that."

Waltfeld shrugged. "All right, then. I'll take your word for it that this is, in the end, for the best; but don't expect me to go easy on you on the battlefield. I know my duty."

"I wouldn't expect you to do otherwise, Commander," the ace replied. "But somehow, I don't think it'll be much of an issue." Another faint smile. "Kira's your real interest, isn't he?"

The commander smiled himself. "He's the first real challenge I've had in awhile," he admitted. "The last one was your sister -the Kestrel _is_ your sister, right?- and that was last year. Oh, and give Sophia my best, will you?"

"Certainly," Ken agreed, now heading for the door. "I hope that we may see each other again, Andy, somewhere other than the battlefield... but I wouldn't count on it."

"Neither would I," Waltfeld said softly. "Crazy world..."

As Ken passed out of the doors to the outside world at last, he couldn't help chuckling to himself. _Sophia's going to have a heart attack,_ he thought to himself. _But she'll probably be flattered, too; after all, how often do you get "best wishes" from one of your most dangerous adversaries?_

* * *

Author's note: The Strike pilot and the Desert Tiger have met at last; and Falcon has met his "father", and been forced to kill him. Soon, the truth of his unique birth will be revealed… 

By the way, can anyone tell me where I can find some information about Rondo Mina Sahaku? If I can learn enough about her, she'll be making an appearance -or two, or three- in A Call to Arms. After all, since they're both members of the Orb nobility, she and Kevin would obviously know each other. I figure the interaction would be… interesting.

Infinite Freedom, I enjoy being unpredictable; makes it a lot easier to surprise people at the appropriate times.

The power cord will be explained within the next three or four chapters; but I will not comment on it now. Sequence and order, time and stress, as I always say (if you don't believe me, check a couple of my other entries).

I suppose, however, that there's no harm in explaining what I meant about Huckebein's death. It seems to me that it will be appropriate for their duel to finish as it started: blade to blade. Only this time, it'll be a little more final. Of course, I won't say when or where this will take place.

Sophia may or may not enter the Berserker state; but probably not. There really isn't any reason to. She will, however, get a mobile suit, which will be hinted at in the next chapter.

I'll say this about what happens to the remains of Raptor: it will be used to upgrade an existing mobile suit. I won't say which, but I think it'll be properly unexpected.

Shiho's role is hinted at in this chapter, as you probably noticed; but I must say here that I don't know much about her at all, except for her mobile suit, so I'll be kind of winging it. My apologies in advance if she seems out of character.

I think I can safely say that Victor Tempest will be involved in Spit Break. That's such a major operation that it's unlikely he _wouldn't_ be involved.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, sometimes I wonder the same thing. Sometimes, a story seems to write itself; but I think it shan't disappoint.

Ninofchaos, I quite understand about computer problems. You may have noticed a story of mine called The Will to Power? Well, I had to completely rewrite the first chapter of it, because my computer decided to dump the whole thing -_eight pages_ worth- without ever telling me why. Needless to say, I was quite irritated. So yes, I understand completely.

As for Ahmed, the main reason he was kept alive was because I couldn't think of any way to keep him _dead_ in this version, what with _two_ G-weapons coming to the rescue.

Windbreaker, it was stated early in the story that I did not intend to extend this into Destiny. However, I'm now reconsidering that, so it _is_ a possibility. It would, however, take a lesser priority than Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms, which is a Destiny project I've been planning since the first story was completed, back in July.

Ominae, it sounds kind of interesting; I just may have to check it out.

As regards Ahmed, again, I wasn't sure how to keep him dead, under the circumstances, so it was simpler to keep him alive.

Easy-Company-506-101, I know exactly what you mean. Some of the typos are certainly my fault -I can't catch them all- but it is a fact that when I upload, I have to debug it. For some reason, any paragraph that begins in italics will be _entirely_ italicized, and, if the cases where there's non-italics mixed which more italics, the paragraph will be _duplicated._ I first noticed that with the first chapter of Brothers in Arms, and it took me days to get it all straightened out. Even now, it still won't let me put an exclamation point and a question mark side by side; one or the other, depending on order, will be deleted. I have no idea why, but it really, really irritates me. This is one reason you'll frequently find me complaining at the end of a chapter about how long it took me to get it ready, because writing the notes is only the first half of the job.

I paid particular attention to getting the names right; it drives me nuts when I see so many misspelled names. I can generally ignore it, but it still irritates me, so I always make sure to use the official spellings. (Which reminds me: I'm not sure I spelled the black market weapons dealer's name right; I'll have to check.)

Happy Birthday, by the way; I figured I'd make sure this chapter was ready today. Though I'm not sure I'll be able to post this tonight, since the site seems to be having problems.

Storm Wolf77415, I agree with you there; but it'll be awhile yet. Next chapter, by the way, will go a little more in-depth into Tempest's motivations…

Centurious, I'm glad I could help; I wasn't sure, since I'm not really that good at explaining how I do what I do.

Antilles, I'm glad you like it. Interestingly, Falcon wasn't originally going to be in a mentor role like that; it just kind of worked out that way, and I'd have to say it was a good thing. It seems to be working well.

You'll notice that there are several more of his Lessons in this chapter; I've thought of thirty-seven of them so far, and I'm using them as the situation warrants. They won't be coming quite as thick and fast as they are here in most chapters, but you'll find them scattered about. At least one will be something of a tie-in, thus turning one of Le Creuset's lines in Phase 35 into a quote. You'll see what I mean.

Warp Ligia Obscura, Ahmed won't really have anything more to contribute to the plot than he did in the series; it's just that, as explained earlier, the way things happened seemed to be the only way that would fit with this version of the story. There was no logical way t kill him off, so alive he stayed.

Yes, there is something of a practical reason for leaving Tempest alive; but the main thing is that, while Falcon wants him dead, he's too professional to let his personal feelings interfere in a battle. At the moment, he'll settle for making sure "The Raven" is removed from the tactical situation, even if it means merely disabling him.

Thanks for the information about Canard Pars; I found it quite interesting, though I'm not sure if I can find any legitimate reason for him to be making an appearance in this story. His mobile suit type, on the other hand… that may be a possibility (this _is_ an AU, after all).

So Cagalli really is a Natural? Huh. I assumed, especially after SEED Phase 41, that she was a Coordinator; and I know other people did, as well. Hm. Well, it hasn't been stated outright in this story yet, and, again, this is an AU, so if I decide to go with it anyway, it shouldn't be a problem; especially with another major alteration I'm considering.

I would assume that you mean Rey never detaches the DRAGOON system in the _atmosphere,_ right? Otherwise, it's not a true DRAGOON system at all. "DRAGOON" stands for "Disconnected Rapid Armament Group Overlook Operation Network", so if it's not detached, it's not a DRAGOON system.

Since just about anything, especially something wing-shaped, can get off the group with sufficient thrust -and a nuclear-powered mobile suit has power to burn- I don't see any problem with having Preybird's DRAGOON system atmosphere-capable. But it wouldn't have anything to do with Terminal in the first place; if memory serves, Terminal isn't a factor until Destiny, and Falcon will be getting the Preybird _long_ before then.

Garcia may have survived into the Destiny timeline, but in neither A Call to Arms nor the hypothetical sequel to this story will he be a factor. In one version, Kevin Walker blew his heart out, and in the other, he got stuck in a decompressing closet.

Lipana, I was talking about the _first_ Phase 41; as I've said at least a dozen times, I've never seen Destiny, just read episode summaries, so unless specifically noted otherwise, you can assume I'm talking about the first series.

Now, what I was specifically referring to was Cagalli's line to Kira, late in Trembling World: "If you and I are siblings, then what am I?" I took that to mean that she was, in fact, a Coordinator, and since the series never says one way or the other… And yes, I know Uzumi said she was a Natural, but that was before he admitted she even had a brother, so didn't put much stock in it.

I'm not denying that a Natural couldn't compete against a Coordinator, by the way; I never said anything of the sort. The _point_ was that it was highly unlikely for a Natural _that age and experience_ going toe-to-toe with a Coordinator who's been training in the martial arts since childhood, in addition to being the one codenamed "The Terrible One" (something which will be explained next chapter). It _is_ a fact that Coordinators mature faster, and, by extension, can be trained faster.

Though whether Cagalli is a Natural or a Coordinator, her going SEED shouldn't be that much of a surprise or source of puzzlement. According to the official website's glossary, the SEED factor, while rare, has nothing to do with whether one is Natural or Coordinator; either can possess the SEED.

As I said before, Cagalli won't be flying a Skygrasper in that battle because I had something else in mind; and really, all she does is shoot a land battleship, slice it up a little, and get shot down. Perhaps thirty seconds total screen time in battle. Believe me, it'll still be quite the battle; and her being in the gunner's seat of the Raptor will help lead into my modifications of Phases 23 and 24. Similar to events in Brothers in Arms, I suppose, but completely different in tone and atmosphere; you'll see what I mean. Although, I suppose if it's that much of a problem not having her flying something on her own in that desert battle, I can probably figure something out. Either way, it should be in the next chapter; Phase 20 has little of much consequence for this version of events, and I found the episode deathly boring anyway.

Stormturmoil, I kind of get the point now about Cagalli being a Natural; I caught enough flak about it already. But, just to thorough, I may as well point out a few things.

First of all, Le Creuset may be the clone of a Natural, but it seems pretty clear to me that Al Da Flaga had him modified into a Coordinator in the process. My reasoning? He's flying a mobile suit at the very start, long before a Natural-adapted OS is created. Yes, I know Mu flies a mobile suit later on, but notice that he himself says that he couldn't fly the Strike, and Erica Simmons mentions installing the new OS in the Strike, before he ever flies it.

Point taken about why Canard Pars telomeres would be basically unaffected; but I should note that there is never any indication that Kira himself is a clone. The way I understand it, Hibiki used his own son for the project, and -presumably- learned enough from the failures to make sure that the actual Kira survived the process (or maybe it was just dumb luck; either way, I'm pretty sure he's not a clone).

Finally, Cagalli is _not_ "a few months" older than Kira. It's entirely possible that she's the older twin, but the official website notes that they have the same birthday, which was one reason picked up on their connection a little before it was officially revealed (that and the fact that they have the same blood type).

Anyway, thanks for reviewing; and believe me, compared to some others I could mention that wasn't a long post at all. Besides, I do enjoy these discussions, even if it takes me eons to write the notes.

NukeDawg, I'm actually glad to hear you like Never Ending Tomorrow; I'd come across mixed reviews for it, and, though I was prepared to disregard them anyway, it's good to have some confirmation. The only reason I haven't tried it yet I lack of opportunity; I shall be doing so as soon as possible.

I'll be looking forward to your Brothers in Arms AU; I doubt anything in it will come as _that_ much of a surprise, having read A New Saga, but it'll be interesting to see more of Aelan's past.

Argh; ninety minutes and 2200 words of notes. My fingers are getting tired from all this typing. Well, I hope the chapter was acceptable; let me know, please. Till next time. -Solid Shark


	17. Chapter 17: Desert Armageddon

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

PLANTs, Martius Three, February 21st, C.E. 71

* * *

A large man in ZAFT red strode down a decrepit hallway in a theoretically-abandoned military facility, a report under his arm. He was slightly late for his meeting, but the report was important enough to make up for it... even if it _was_ nearly midnight. 

The big fellow was Sparky Cooper, and the base was a former ZAFT facility officially listed as abandoned; unofficially, it had been taken over by the surviving Gray Demons. Though all three were on active duty elsewhere, they all knew their _real_ work was accomplished here.

"You're late, Sparky," a lithe, red-uniformed youth with iron-gray hair -which he'd had from birth- observed when the bigger man entered the conference room.

"Sorry, Tom," Sparky replied. "But a courier arrived at the Residence this afternoon, with an interesting package." He dropped the report on the table. "According to Master Siegel, it was sent by Andrew Waltfeld, just yesterday."

Green-haired Leanne Eldridge, a relative of the Le Creuset team's Nicol Amalfi -first cousin, in fact- frowned. "The Desert Tiger?" She picked up the report, glancing at the header. "But that's got the Boss's header; why would Andy Waltfeld...?"

Sparky shrugged. "We're not sure yet; but there are rumors the Boss was in Banadiya the day this was sent up. That might have something to do with it."

Tom Delaney nodded thoughtfully. "If anyone would understand anything about the Boss's plans, it would be Andy; especially if the Commander confronted him with GENESIS."

Leanne shook her head. "You know he wouldn't do that, Tom. He might mention it, but go into detail? You know how much he hates talking about that. Not that I blame him." The mood darkened for a moment, as they remembered why the Shiva Option had to proceed with little input from its leader. "Anyway," she went on after a moment, "what's so important about that message?"

Sparky raised a hand. "Just a moment. First, Tom, I need to ask you something: how is the X00A Project going?"

Tom jerked his head at a window looking out onto the assembly floor, where several technicians -their core consisting of the DiFalco team's mechanics, carefully augmented by discrete recruitment- worked on the frame of a mobile suit. "We've got the basic frame completed," he said, now bringing up the table's holographic screen. "That was the easy part, even with the artificial muscle-tissue actuators. The _hard_ part is only just beginning. It'll take weeks to get the weapons completed; and we haven't yet gotten hold of the N-jammer canceller plans."

Leanne shot him a sharp look. "What? You mean they've made the breakthrough?"

The mobile suit engineer nodded glumly. "Yeah. I got word from one of my contacts in the R&D section yesterday. The good news is that the only problem in getting hold of the plans is that there's only a couple of copies so far; once they're distributed more through the construction, I should be able to filch a set without much trouble. The bad news..."

Sparky grimaced. "GENESIS. But that's immaterial right now."

"True. Anyway, we've got a little additional help." Tom brought a set of blueprints for an unusual-looking weapon... unusual, at least, for a mobile suit. "Remember how the Junk Guild got the Boss and his parents to Heliopolis in the first place? Well, it seems Lowe Guele got wind of his predicament, and managed to get these plans to us. It's called a 'Gerbera Straight'."

Leanne nodded approvingly. "The legendary beam-deflection sword. I'd only heard about it before; but I thought that eccentric Un No fellow was the only one who could make it?"

He snorted. "Come now, Leanne; have you ever encountered a bit of tech I couldn't duplicate? Oh, sure, it'll take a little while; this is one job I have to do myself. But it _is_ doable."

Sparky smiled. "The Boss will be happy to hear that; he always did prefer melee weapons."

"Yeah. Now, to move on..." The image shifted to a pair of beam rifles, and a graphic showing how they'd be stowed on the completed machine. "We've already got the MA-M19 Talon rifles fabricated; that was simple enough. Same for the MA-M01 Lacertas. We can mount them on the frame once we have the MMI-M15 Xiphias railguns on the hips." Tom tapped commands into his panel. "The RQM51 Bassel beam boomerangs will take rather longer, though; and the Mirage Colloid will have to wait until we have a working fission reactor."

The bigger man nodded unhappily. "I figured." He didn't know much about it -his nominal subordinate was using the full designations for weapons for essentially the same reason: good as he was at his job, Sparky didn't know much about the technical side of things- but there were some things he found fairly obvious. "What about the DRAGOON system?"

"That's a whole different problem," Tom replied. "The EQFU-2X wings _can_ be constructed and installed as is -which is fortunate, given that the thing can't fly as well without 'em, and they're needed for the heavy weapons, remember- but, like the cloaking system, they can't be used without nuclear power, and even once we get that, the Boss is the only one who can test them."

"Figured that, too." _Blast it._

"What about the satellite system?" Leanne broke in. "I mean, I already spent a solid two weeks flitting around orbit, deploying those blasted satellites."

Tom shook his head. "Another no-go, Leanne; we can construct it -and we will- but we can't power it. To finish this machine, we need N-jammer canceler technology, and we just don't have it yet."

"Well, you'd better expedite," Sparky rumbled. He tapped the report. "See this? According to the Boss's latest message, his current machine may be a dead issue a lot sooner than we counted on."

Tom picked it up. "Figures," he muttered. "Stress fractures..."

Leanne sighed. "Let me guess: he went Berserker, and pulled something the machine couldn't take."

"That's about the size of it. But cheer up, Leanne: at least this wasn't like the Bloody Valentine; Raptor didn't fall apart on the spot, like that GINN did." He turned back to Sparky. "I'll do what I can, Sparky, but it'll still be a couple of months before it's at full combat capacity."

Sparky pondered that. "How about limited capacity? I understand it wouldn't have full capabilities, but..."

Tom started to say something, then shut his mouth. "That's a possibility," he said at last. "We're already having to go with a new generation of capacitors for the satellite system, so if we used one of those in place of the nuclear reactor... If we did that, Sparky, we could have it at limited combat-capacity in, say... a month?"

The big man considered that. "It's not ideal," he said finally. "But if that's the best we can do, it's the best we can do... Leanne, if we need to deploy at all before we get it to the Boss, you'll be flying it."

The test pilot nodded. "Got it. Just in case, I'll get the simulators programmed for it."

"Good. Now, that brings us to our next bit of business." He looked over at the engineer. "Tom, how are the other X-units going?"

"X10A Freedom is on track," Tom replied. "Our careful technology leaks have paid off; it should be ready within a week or so of X00A's projected completion date." He smiled. "We're prepared to seize it, if and when the necessity arises."

Sparky nodded. "That's good news. What about X09A?"

"That will be finished around the same time, if all goes according to schedule." The gray-haired engineer looked concerned. "That one -they're calling it the Justice, by the way- is being stored separately from Freedom, in a place we don't have such easy access to."

Leanne frowned, similarly troubled. "That's _not_ good news; we can't let Patrick-" they all had the habit of referring to the ZAFT leader by his first name, despite having never met him "-have _any_ nuclear-powered machines. GENESIS will be bad enough; especially since construction of it was well on its way when Falcon bugged out." She steepled her fingers. "Should we bring Shiho in on this?"

Sparky shook his head. "No. She transferred out before Endymion, remember; and I don't want to put her on the spot now. No, we may approach her at some point, but now is not the time." He sighed. "We'll just have to figure something else out. However... we may have another advantage." He tapped the report again. "Apparently, the Boss managed to get hold of some more Eurasian data; I don't know how, unless it was data from Artemis that he's only recently decoded. But it could be useful."

Tom examined the information. "That's interesting; equipped with a more complete version of the light-wave shield we're building into Preybird. Another thing that couldn't be completed with an NJC, but that's hardly a major obstacle. But... that's strange." He looked up. "He wants us to give it a Natural-adapted OS, if we can come up with one."

The three looked at each other, and were reminded once again that sometimes even _they_ didn't understand what their boss was up to.

* * *

Banadiya, Land Battleship _Lesseps,_ Officer's Quarters, February 22nd, C.E. 71

* * *

Victor Tempest, alias Huckebein the Raven, jerked upright in his bunk, muscles trembling, heart beating rapidly. _Not again,_ the young man thought, and reached hurriedly for the nearby table. Opening a drawer, he swiftly pulled out a bottle, and downed several pills. 

It took less than a minute for them to kick in, and then he was in control of his body again. "Oh, no," Tempest whispered to himself. "The episodes... are getting more frequent... more painful..." That was the first time he'd been awakened so precipitously by that particular problem; it told him things he didn't want to know, yet had to know.

_At least I'm in control of my mind for now,_ he thought and got up. _If only... I could tell Falcon... what's really going on._

Victor Tempest was well aware that he was losing it. He'd known even from childhood of his own mental instability; and, though he'd tried to hide it, it had gradually gotten worse. Inevitably, the medication he took partly -but _only_ partly- to control his own mind would wear off, and he'd do things he ordinarily would never do.

Like that day, nearly a year before, when he'd tried to kill his friend and commander; or before that, in the battle that led to his transfer from the Gray Demons. And in the heat of battle, when the stress would eat away at him, allowing his deranged mind to spout insane rambling, taunting those he faced on the battlefield. He would retain enough control to avoid flying into a berserk rage, but only just.

Which was, of course, exactly why he continued to fight his former commander, to goad him, trying to get him to do the one thing he seemed intent on avoiding.

"Blast it, Falcon," Tempest whispered. "Why won't you just go ahead and kill me? We'd _both_ be better off... blast it."

Donning his distinctive mask, he reflected that at least one good thing had occurred recently: the corpse of one Heinrich Metzinger had been found, missing its head and cut in two. That pleased the Raven immensely. _Thank you, Boss,_ he thought. _The doc deserved what he got, for doing this to me... Why did he have to create me in the first place?_ He snarled silently. _Dependent on pills to avoid organ degeneration, to keep my mind relatively sane... I wish the bastard had left well enough alone and never created me in the first place._

He rubbed his chest, feeling the beating of the artificial heart that lay within. _I should have died that day; in that we agree, Falcon. But the doctors revived me, put me back together, and sent me back to the frontlines; why couldn't they see that it should have ended?_

His reason for living was a desire for death; the Raven's sole amusement was that Rau Le Creuset had met him in person a number of times, yet never realized the truth about him. But Tempest knew Le Creuset's origins. Oh yes, he knew...

He shook himself; it was time to head to the hangar, to make sure his LaGOWE had been repaired properly. It wouldn't for it to break down prematurely, the next time he fought to die...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Most people in his position, Ken DiFalco mused, sitting on Raptor's shoulder, would probably be having an existential crisis about now. He, on the other hand, was very relaxed about the whole thing. After all, next to the Bloody Valentine, the Battle of Endymion, and the GENESIS Project, learning that he'd been designed as a "natural soldier" was nothing much at all. 

Upon returning to the _Archangel,_ shoulder, head, and side bandaged, he'd immediately sought out his sister and the Captain. In the end, he'd found them both, as well as his brother Mu, in the Captain's office.

_"We wondered what was keeping you, Falcon," Murrue began, "and- What happened to _you?" _She stared at the bandages in something akin to shock._

_Ken's face seemed to have the faintest trace of a smile. "Well, first of all, we ran into a Blue Cosmos cell, who had the bad manners to fire rocket launchers and assault rifles at us; in the process of dealing with them, I was shot once in the head, once in the right side, and twice in the left shoulder, for a total of four bullet wounds in thirty seconds. Then it turned out their actual target was our tablemate, who turned out to be Andrew Waltfeld. We ended up spending a couple of hours at his headquarters, getting cleaned up, while he talked philosophy with -or more precisely, at- us, held us at gunpoint, and then let us go without a fight. Oh, and did I mention running into one Heinrich Metzinger along the way?"_

_The trio of officers stared at him in disbelief; in part at the day's tribulations, and in part because it was the largest number of words they'd ever heard him string together at once._

_"What was that?" Mu managed finally. "You got attacked by Blue Cosmos, had lunch with the Desert Tiger, and ran into... Wait a minute. Metzinger... wasn't he...?"_

_"The one responsible for my birth," Ken confirmed, and turned to Sophia. "Der Schreckick Eins, Sister," he said pleasantly. "The Terrible One. Care to explain?"_

_Sophia slumped slightly. _I always knew this would come out, _she thought. _I just don't know how he'll react.

_"Der Schreckick Eins," she said finally. "As you said, The Terrible One. It was Metzinger's pet project; an attempt to use genetic engineer to create a superlative soldier."_

_His eye narrowed. "A super-soldier program?"_

_She shook her head. "Not exactly; the idea of super-soldiers tends to conjure up images of cybernetically-enhanced warriors or something. No, this was subtler than that." She took a deep breath, preparing to launch into a lengthy explanation. "As you know, with our current knowledge of genetic engineering it's possible to identify what genes are most closely connected with what attributes; it's not perfect, but it gives geneticists much greater control over the human genome than ever before. That's one reason that, even before the Torino Protocol was passed, there were strict limits on what could be done with humanity's genetic code. Metzinger, unfortunately, didn't much care for the rules. He set out to create the ideal soldier, someone who would excel at his job without being too conspicuous. Using preserved genetic material -I don't know whose; presumably that of some soldier or other from the Reconstruction War- he combined so-called 'soldier genes' with the genome obtained from the La Flaga line. Genes for things like greater muscle efficiency, physical resilience, a more efficient metabolism, that sort of thing; he even attempted to 'program in' the proverbial killer instinct, and 'strategic thinking'."_

_"Apparently," Mu remarked, "he succeeded."_

_"Apparently," Sophia agreed. "He didn't know at the time, of course; but he did know that he'd produced a viable product."_

_"Me," Ken said flatly._

_"Yes. You." She grimaced. "But Metzinger wasn't content with that; and he was thorough enough man to anticipate that, if something were to go wrong, he might end up separated from his 'creation', and not be able to complete the experiment himself. So, according to the notes I found when I located his lab some years ago, he intended to leave 'programs' within your mind; subconscious directives that would at the proper time -your mid-teens, apparently- alter your mind, your way of thinking, into what he considered the proper mold: that of an unfeeling soldier." Sophia looked away. "And, I'm sorry to say, I believed he'd succeeded. Falcon, the way you started acting... it reminded me too much of what Metzinger's notes said. I thought..."_

_"It was a reasonable assumption," he said, as gently as he ever spoke. "But why didn't you tell me?"_

_She looked at him again, eyebrow raised. "Probably for the same reason you still won't tell anyone why you left ZAFT."_

_"Touché," Ken granted._

_Murrue tilted her head. "You... don't seem very bothered by this revelation, Falcon. Why not?"_

_"I don't care what was done to me before I was born," he said bluntly. "Nor what he attempted to do to me afterwards. What matters is what _my _choices have made me; and I left Metzinger, and his grand design, behind a long time ago."_

_Mu clapped lightly at that, and Sophia managed a smile. "By the way," she asked suddenly, "where's Metzinger now?"_

_This time there was no mistaking the slow smile that spread across Ken's face, proving that, despite his carefully-crafted exterior, there was a sense of humor buried in there somewhere. "That depends," he said easily. "Which half of him?"_

_His sister and Murrue blinked, both at Metzinger's fate and the way the ace described it, but Mu grinned. "I guess he won't be bothering you anymore, huh?"_

_"Not at all."_

_The Captain and Sophia looked at each other, and then Murrue cleared her throat. "Ahem. Getting back to the matter of your encounter with the Desert Tiger... exactly what happened there?"_

_Ken shrugged. "Not much. His partner Aisha got Cagalli cleaned up, while I patched myself up; then we had a discourse on how Evidence 01 was at the root of the war, before Andy pulled a gun on us and went into the philosophy of war. Then, like I said, he just let us go."_

_Sophia shook her head in disbelief. "That's one _weird _guy."_

_"You can say that again. Oh, by the way," he added, "he said to give you his best."_

_"Me?" She blinked. "I'm flattered... but why?"_

_"He respects you," Ken told her. "You were a formidable adversary, the last time you ran into him, and he seems to be pleased you're still around."_

_"Huh." Sophia pondered that. "First time I've ever had an enemy wish me luck."_

Now, two days later, Ken was quite relaxed about the whole thing, and on his way to recovering from the bullet wounds. Once again, he'd insisted upon doing the work himself; he wasn't yet ready to reveal his body's secrets. It was more stubborn pride than anything else, of course; he simply didn't like admitting to any weakness, and so he hid it, as always.

_Hurt like blazes, though,_ he thought to himself. _Seems like every time I start to forget why I dislike guns, I get shot again. Come on, people, give me a break._

Ken wondered idly if the trip had actually been worth it; but he already knew the answer to that. If the data had reached Sparky, it was worth it. The plan continued, and now his people knew of the added urgency. For now, that was all that mattered.

_And if everything goes right, perhaps I'll avert Judgment Day after all._

* * *

Banadiya Outskirts, _Lesseps, _Waltfeld's Office, February 26th, C.E. 71

* * *

Several mobile suit transport aircraft were settling down outside the land battleship and its escorts, and Andy Waltfeld sighed. 

"It's about time," he commented to DaCosta. "But what's up with those guys at Gibraltar, anyway? Why are they sending us ZuOOTs?" He tossed the message that had come with the reinforcements onto the table in disgust. "Are they all out of BuCUEs or something?"

His protégé shrugged helplessly. "They said they couldn't provide us with any more of them," he said simply, reiterating the message's contents. "They didn't say why."

"Well, I wish _somebody_ would explain it to me." Waltfeld snorted. "ZuOOTs. Yeah, that's just what we need, when we've got G-weapons and the Victorian Kestrel out there. ZuOOTs are nothing but gun turrets pretending to have some semblance of mobility... and not doing a very good job of it."

"Well... maybe they think they're doing us a favor by sending us _those_ guys." DaCosta nodded at the viewport, beyond which the Duel and Buster were being offloaded.

Another snort. "Their pilots' battle experience is limited to space, and we saw how _that_ worked out with the Grimaldi Falcon. I can't help but think they'll just get in the way."

"They _are_ from an elite unit..."

Waltfeld laughed openly. "'Elite unit'? They're from the Le Creuset team, and I could never stand that guy; he's as creepy as Huckebein. Believe me, DaCosta, if I wanted 'elite' pilots, I'd want the surviving Gray Demons; but they're all out of frontline positions, so asking for them as replacements wouldn't do much good." He sighed. "Well, I suppose I'll reserve judgment, at least about this Elsman fellow; they say he was DiFalco's best friend, so he can't be _all_ bad."

DaCosta hesitated. "But, if that's true, wouldn't that make him _less_ likely to open fire when the time came...?"

"It doesn't work that way, DaCosta. Not when the Grimaldi Falcon is involved. The man seems to have subordinated _everything,_ including friendship, to his cause, so if Elsman's alive after coming to blows with the guy, he must have been fighting back." The commander shrugged. "Well, I suppose I should go out and meet them; maybe they'll surprise me."

* * *

Desert Dawn Base, War Room

* * *

The _Archangel_'s officers had once again gathered with Sahib Ashman to discuss their next move. Now that Al-Jairi had come through with the weapons they needed -including, oddly, an Earth Forces F-7D atmosphere fighter- they could make detailed plans. 

"All right," Sahib began. "We're almost ready to move out... finally. Now, we all know the _Archangel_ isn't getting out of Africa without a fight, so what matters now is to make sure we make our stand in a place of _our_ choosing. Never let the enemy dictate the conditions of battle."

"Exactly," Ken concurred. "Which is why we should make our stand at Talbadiya."

The others looked at him, slightly startled by his swift, confident statement. "That didn't take much thought," Mu commented. "Reasons?"

The ace rubbed his eyepatch. "One: after the revolt last year, there are no civilians to get in the way, so we don't need to worry about checking our fire. Two: if memory serves, the Desert Dawn has already emplaced a minefield there, which should give us an extra advantage. And three: I doubt Andy will expect it. He's already fought a battle there, and won, so he likely wouldn't anticipate _another_ resistance group making a stand in the same place."

Natarle frowned. "Well, I guess you'd be in the best position to know..." She looked over at him. "Just how well do you know Waltfeld, anyway?"

"Not _that_ well," Ken admitted. "He's spent the war as a ground force commander, while my combat duties were spaceborne-only. My only prolonged acquaintance with him was during my tour here, last year. But I learned a lot in that time, and I've studied his campaigns exhaustively. Between Sophia and me, I think we can deal."

Sahib grunted. "I hope you're right. So, how's your mobile weapon complement right now? Are your machines ready, should we need to move in a hurry?"

Murrue turned to the ex-ZAFT ace. "Falcon?"

Ken leaned against the wall. "According to Chief Murdoch, both Skygraspers are in tip-top shape; and he's gotten that F-7D as ready as it can be without an assigned pilot to customize it for. As regards the mobile suits, Strike hasn't yet taken any major damage down here, and the Raptor..."

"Raptor is combat-ready," Sophia finished for him. "The stress fractures aren't yet critical, so it'll be fine during the next engagement; assuming, of course, that it doesn't get banged up too badly by enemy fire." She glanced at her brother. "What are the odds Huckebein will be back in action by then?"

He frowned minutely. "That depends partly on when we make our move, partly on how good _Lesseps's_ mechanics are... and partly on how easy LaGOWEs are to maintain."

Natarle looked surprised. "I'd think you'd know; weren't you a test pilot...?"

"That was for the BuCUE," Ken corrected. "The LaGOWE is a newer design, after my time; all I really know about it, besides the fact that it's equipped with beam weapons, is that it was developed from Andy's custom BuCUE. That particular machine is a very tough customer, by the way; I've seen battle footage of it in action, and it's really quite something."

"That's not very reassuring, Falcon," Sophia informed him. "If a customized _BuCUE_ was that bad, I don't know if I even want to face a _development_ of it."

"What we'd prefer to deal with, and what we _have_ to deal with, are almost always two very different things, Sis," he replied. "We'll make do, don't worry; _Archangel,_ as you noted, can blow away land battleships without too much trouble. That depends, of course, on what sort of weaponry we're willing to use. In any case, as in any modern battle, it'll be the mobile suits that form the decisive factor."

Mu nodded. "Yeah, I figured. Which reminds me: did you manage to crack that ELINT between Gibraltar and Banadiya?"

"Yeah," Ken replied; "ELINT" stood for Electronic Intelligence. In plainer terms, communications intercepts. "They still haven't changed all the codes ZAFT-wide; probably they're beginning with the most critical areas, like Jachin Due and Boaz, and gradually spreading the new protocols through the rest of the organization. In any case, they were using an older encryption code and scrambler frequency, so I had little trouble reading it." He reached into a coat pocket, withdrew a scrap of paper, and laid it on the table. "According to this, _Lesseps_ and her escorts received reinforcements earlier today, consisting mostly of ZuOOTs, with no BuCUEs at all."

Sophia smiled. "Hey, that's great; ZuOOTs are sitting ducks."

"Sure it is," he agreed. "Unfortunately, those weren't _quite_ all they got." His face assumed an almost -but not quite- grim expression. "Apparently, the Duel and the Buster, along with their pilots, have been temporarily reassigned to the Waltfeld team."

Mu cursed. "Wonderful. Those guys were a real pain, back up in space." He sighed. "Guess we should have expected it, though; we knew all along that they'd come down to Earth."

"True; but look on the bright side." Ken allowed himself the ghost of a smile. "The Buster is relatively slow even in space; in a gravity well, it needs some kind of subflight unit, like a Guul, to be very maneuverable, let alone fly. And while the assault shroud upgrade may give the Duel added mobility in space, it serves to greatly _limit_ mobility here on Earth."

"It'll still be tough to take down," Sophia pointed out.

"But at least it'll also have a hard time dodging," Sahib countered. "Commander DiFalco is right: this situation could be much worse than it is." He smiled. "And since we already know about them, we can begin planning how to minimize the threat they pose." The guerrilla leader turned to the ace. "You're the expert, Commander; just what advantages do we have?"

Ken closed his eye, thinking. "First of all," he began, "energy weapons don't work as well in the atmosphere. That's not such a problem for us -_Archangel_'s weapons have enough sheer power to compensate, and our mobile weapons have the ability to get closer to their targets- but for Duel and Buster, the energy drop-off over any real range will give them severe problems..."

* * *

Outside _Lesseps_

* * *

"Welcome to the _Lesseps,"_ Waltfeld called to the two "elite" pilots. "I'm Andrew Waltfeld, the commander around here. We're grateful for your assistance." _I think._

Yzak saluted. "Yzak Joule, of the Le Creuset team," he introduced.

Dearka raised his own hand. "Dearka Elsman, also of the Le Creuset team." Curious, the pilot glanced around, noting absently that neither the _Lesseps_ nor her escorts seemed battle-scarred. _That's weird..._

Waltfeld noticed his expression, and surprised himself by chuckling with a trace of genuine humor. "If you're wondering why my ships are still intact," he said dryly, "after we went toe-to-toe with the infamous Strike pilot _and_ the Grimaldi Falcon, the reason is simple: the ships themselves have yet to come into direct conflict with the enemy G-weapons."

Yzak nodded thoughtfully. "What can you tell us about the machines' performance against your team, in gravity?"

A succession of images went through the commander's mind, of machines firing with pinpoint accuracy, pulling maneuvers their frames shouldn't have been capable of; of a young man with amethyst eyes, who stood before his female companion like an ancient knight... and of another youth whose blade bit deep into the flesh of his enemies, holding his ground even as bullet after bullet tore into his body. A young man who had faced Waltfeld with a sword in his one working hand, willing to sacrifice his life if it meant permitting his comrades -his _friends-_ to escape.

"Well," he said finally, "we did about as well as the Le Creuset team." Waltfeld smiled slightly. "A little better, in our first engagement; at least until the two machines blasted my men to bits."

"How _do_ they perform in atmosphere?" Yzak persisted. "Any weaknesses?"

The commander shrugged. "They don't maneuver as well in the desert sand as my BuCUEs do, if that's what you're wondering. But their flight capability and heavy weaponry more than makes up for any such deficiencies. They've defeated everything we've thrown at them, so far."

Dearka nodded. "Yeah, that doesn't surprise me; Falcon's been known to deflect laser beams, and the Strike pilot, well..."

Waltfeld tilted his head as the pilot trailed off, and glanced at Yzak's face. _I see..._ "You know," he said conversationally, "when one doesn't have a bad scar removed, it's often taken as a sign one's determination." When the Duel's pilot flushed noticeably, he raised an eyebrow. "Or is it... humiliation?"

_Why doesn't he just leave it alone?_ Yzak thought, irritated. _It's not _his _business; he doesn't need to know that all that matters to me right now is making the Strike pilot pay for humiliating me..._

Finally, he narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you just tell us where the legged ship is?" he said, changing the subject. "Once we know _that_ we can start figuring out how to take care of it."

The Tiger shrugged. "It's currently at a resistance base about a hundred klicks south of here; they seem to have joined forces with a group of guerrillas calling themselves the 'Desert Dawn', and we think they may have recently acquired additional supplies and firepower." He smiled. "You wanna see the pictures?"

Yzak frowned. "If you know where they are, then why haven't you attacked them already? You must have had plenty of time..."

Waltfeld snorted. "We were waiting for reinforcements from Gibraltar; that's what you guys are supposed to be, right? Besides, I wouldn't dream of depriving you of a chance at them."

The silver-haired pilot felt his temper rising, but, with difficulty, managed to throttle it. He couldn't afford to show too much insubordination, particularly to a new commander; Le Creuset tolerated it, to some extent, but if Waltfeld chose not to, not even being Ezalia Joule's son would count for much.

_And that's the way it should be,_ Yzak admitted grudgingly. _Nepotism has no place in a war._ He knew, of course, the his parentage _had_ influenced his assignment to the elite Le Creuset team; but he also took pride in the fact that, if he were not truly an excellent pilot, he _still_ wouldn't have gotten in. For in that respect, Rau Le Creuset was very much like Ken DiFalco.

Politics or no, he only accepted the best.

_And now it's time to prove it,_ Yzak thought. "All right," he said finally. "Let's get in out of this sand, and see what we have."

Waltfeld nodded amiably. "They say that you can only truly be at home in the desert if you're born there," he agreed. "Maybe they're right."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, February 28th, C.E. 71

* * *

"It's time to move out," Falcon murmured to himself, standing at the fore of the Bridge. "At last." 

Murrue nodded. "Yes. I'll admit the waiting's been getting to me, too; but like you've said, war is two percent depression, one percent sheer, howling terror..."

"And ninety-seven percent boredom," he finished. "Yes, I remember. Unfortunately, we're about to enter the one percent fraction."

"Yeah." She raised an eyebrow. "So, are you sure this plan of yours will work?"

Ken snorted. "Murrue, I have been accused of many thing, including arrogance; and with a certain amount of justification, I'll admit. But I don't think I've ever been accused of being stupid, and being absolutely convinced that the operation will succeed _would_ be stupid." He glanced over his shoulder. "Lesson Four: No plan survives contact with the enemy."

Murrue smiled. "You mean some of your plans have actually failed?"

"A few," he admitted. "The plan that led up to Nova, for example." His eye took on a faraway look, as he thought back. "The original target was actually well away from that resource satellite; the objective I had in mind was Ptolemaeus."

She blinked at the sheer audacity of the notion. "You actually intended to destroy the Atlantic Federation's lunar headquarters?"

Ken shrugged. "Lesson Forty-one: The quickest way to slay the beast is to cut off its head. I hoped, with Operation Guillotine to decapitate the leadership of the single greatest threat within the Earth Alliance; but the plan was rendered hopeless by unexpected changes in troop deployments. So, Patrick had me come up with another target for the resources allocated to Operation Guillotine, and Nova seemed the most worthwhile; and besides, the moment appeared to be right for such a strike."

Murrue's eyes narrowed. "Just how high up in ZAFT's leadership _were_ you?" she asked quietly. "I doubt there are more than a small handful of people in the entire world, either on Earth or in space, who are on a first-name basis with Patrick Zala; and I wouldn't expect a seventeen-year-old pilot to be among them, even if you _were_ commander of the Gray Demons."

He sighed. "You want to know? Fine; I guess maybe it's time." He turned completely to face her, ignoring the fact that the rest of the Bridge crew was present. "I was technically in command of the Gray Demons -or what was left of them- at that point. In actual fact, my primary role was as Patrick's right-hand man."

Natarle, in CIC, inhaled sharply. "You were the number-two man in all of ZAFT?"

"Yes, I was." Ken turned away again. "I wish now that I'd never gotten beyond team commander; but, on the other hand, this situation might have arisen even without me... and without my being in a position to know of it, would I have defected... and where would we be if I hadn't?"

Murrue somehow thought that he was referring to far more than _Archangel_'s current predicament... but she couldn't fathom what. _Why did you desert?_ she wanted to ask him. _What could possibly have driven you to this course?_ She knew she wouldn't get answers even if she asked the questions, of course... but it didn't stop her from wondering what held the young man to the ship, why he fought so hard to defend it...

For Ken's part, there were nightmarish images going through his mind. Literally nightmarish; they were the images that filled his mind, dredged up from his subconscious, every time he slept. Images of a column of fire, reached out across space, touching Earth... searing it to a lifeless ball of rock.

_That is why I fight,_ he thought. _To prevent that nightmare from every becoming real... and for her, so that her sacrifice is not in vain. She made me promise that, and I nearly broke it in my final days with ZAFT. I may yet break it,_ he admitted to himself, _but only if I fail; and I cannot afford to fail._

And Ken DiFalco refused to break his long-ago promise, to one now lost to him.

* * *

Desert Dawn Base

* * *

Cagalli was walking toward the _Archangel_'s hatch when Ahmed caught up with her. "Hey, Cagalli!" he called. "Where're you going?" 

"To the _Archangel_'s hangar," she replied. "I want to be of _some_ use in this battle; and let's face it, our artillery trucks aren't going to be much good against anything other than helicopters. We saw what happened when we tried to take them up against BuCUEs."

He winced. "Yeah; if that ZAFT guy hadn't shown up, we'd be dead."

"He _does_ have a name," Cagalli pointed out mildly. "And he's not ZAFT anymore, however he might talk; he nearly died for us, in Banadiya."

"I guess..." Ahmed was still a little dubious... but on the other hand, he trusted the mysterious girl's judgment; possibly because he had a crush on her. "So, taking up that fighter Al-Jairi sold us?"

She shook her head. "Not unless I have to. Falcon's machine-" she was still careful to call him by his nickname in public; why he wanted it that way, she was not certain "-has a gunner's seat, and it has better weapons than an F-7D."

He tilted his head. "Are you sure the guy will let you? He doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who puts his life in somebody else's hands..."

Cagalli folded her arms, thinking back. _"Unless you have a problem flying with women?"_

_"No, I don't. I've flown with female pilots before."_

She still didn't understand the significance of the remark, but when she put that together with Ken's startled expression back in Banadiya, when he'd seen her in a green dress, it made her wonder. _Especially with that photo in his cockpit... who was she, and _what _was she to that guy? He may have a heart, but he doesn't seem the sentimental type._

"Yeah," she said at last. "I think he will." She glanced away. "By the way, Ahmed... I don't think I'll be staying here much longer."

Ahmed raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I intend to leave within a few days," Cagalli told him. "With the _Archangel."_

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I kinda figured that." He'd been expecting something of the sort, ever since she returned from Banadiya in the company of an obviously-wounded Falcon and his younger friend. "The Grimaldi Falcon, right? That's why?"

To Ahmed's surprise, she didn't immediately snap at him. "Partly," she said slowly. "He _is_ a friend, I think... but it's also that other guy, Kira..."

Cagalli trailed off, thinking on the matter. The two pilots intrigued her, in an indefinable way. One who hid everything about himself, from his true appearance to his heart, and his motives for doing _anything;_ he was a cold, calculating young man, who had subordinated every aspect of his life to his cause, and his mysterious plan. She'd seen him walk out into the fire of a dozen automatic weapons for the sake of a chance at his enemies, though he was hit four times; watched as he cut his own "father" in half... and observed him offer his own life, so that his two companions could escape.

The other... he was completely different. He was so open he almost seemed naive, never bothering to hide his feelings about anything. He fought for a cause, yes; but his was a tangible reality, instead of a nebulous goal. He fought to protect his friends, without care for any grand scheme. Unlike his mentor, the younger pilot would not sacrifice things so easily, even if it meant doing things the hard way. They both fought for what they believed, but Kira Yamato fought with his heart, not a calculating mind, and was, in that sense, more approachable. They both fought out of perceived obligations... but Kira put friendship above duty, whereas Ken DiFalco had professed to have given far higher priority to his goal than friendship.

They each had their flaws... and each was somehow... Cagalli couldn't think of a word for it, but they both interested her. They were like two halves of a whole; as though Falcon were the calculating, planning mind, and Kira the warm heart and soul. If Ken was _Archangel_'s brains, then Kira was certainly its heart; she had seen that from the first. And now... now she decided that she wanted to see how things went from here; how the two would affect and change the things and people that were important to _them..._ and how they changed the world.

"There's just something about those two," Cagalli said, after much thought. "And I want to find out what."

Ahmed nodded. He couldn't claim to be happy she would be leaving, but it wasn't unexpected, either. "Well, good luck."

She chuckled. "Ahmed, first we have to survive this next battle; _then_ we see what happens."

* * *

_Lesseps,_ Bridge

* * *

"Commander," DaCosta reported, as Waltfeld entered the Bridge, "we have confirmation that the legged ship and the Desert Dawn are moving." 

The commander walked to a monitor to see for himself, trailed by Yzak and Dearka. "And so it begins," he murmured. "I'd hoped that they'd wait just a little bit longer... but it can't be helped."

"Where are they headed?" Yzak demanded, as sharply as he dared.

"The Talbadiya factory district," Waltfeld replied, studying the data from an aerial drone. "We smashed another resistance group there last year. I wouldn't have expected them to make their stand in that place," he added thoughtfully. "Probably DiFalco's idea; wheels-within-wheels plans are his specialty."

"Aren't we going to attack them?"

The Tiger hid a smile of amusement at the young pilot's tone; a combination of eagerness, impatience, and irritation. "We are," he told the Duel's pilot. "The Grimaldi Falcon has made his first mistake: he thinks that in an open field battle, some brilliant stratagem will overcome the difference in numbers."

"With two G-weapons on their side," Dearka pointed out carefully, "he may be right, sir. And I know Falcon; he'll have considered the problem of numbers."

"I'm sure," Waltfeld said dryly, "but even he makes mistakes. Maybe he _is_ right; I'll grant that it's a possibility. But there's one thing he doesn't seem to have learned: it's hard to manage your overall battle strategy when you're in the thick of it yourself. Hard to keep an eye on the big picture from the cockpit of a mobile suit."

The blonde pilot frowned, but declined to comment further. _He's making a mistake,_ he thought unhappily. _If he's thought of the plan's weaknesses, so has Falcon; and I think I know what he's counting on._ The two G-weapons could well mean the difference between victory and defeat, and having two of the Earth Forces's most celebrated mobile armor pilots with them wouldn't hurt, either.

Dearka figured the problem was that both Waltfeld and Falcon were master strategists. It was endemic to the condition that neither could admit the other to be superior; and while they each respected the other's ability, that simple fact could blind them to their own weaknesses.

The reason he feared Falcon's plan would succeed was because of one simple fact: the Grimaldi Falcon knew precisely the capabilities of _both_ sides -even a rough estimate of the LaGOWEs, having fought one in battle- whereas Waltfeld knew only his own forces' power.

_Well,_ he thought with a mental shrug, _I guess the only thing I can do is go out there and see if I really know Falcon as well as I think. If I do, maybe I can counter whatever he's up to..._

* * *

Though only Ken DiFalco himself was aware of it, there was one problem with even Dearka Elsman's analysis of the situation: there _was_ no grand scheme this time. 

Knowing that Andrew Waltfeld and his men would expect some kind of brilliant, sneaky stratagem, Ken had instead chosen to do something completely different: a "plan" that relied solely upon brute force. In a move completely out of character -yet completely _in_ character- he had chosen a simple slugging match, with no subtlety whatsoever.

No one who knew him would expect something like that. Ken had taken the resource satellite Nova via the indirect approach; he had, among other things, used his own discarded plan to attack Ptolemaeus Base as a diversion. Though the Earth Forces' rank-and-file were never aware of it, Atlantic Federation Command was sufficiently worried about the possible -to them, probable- attack that they diverted forces from other areas, including the ships they had helping to defend the Eurasian satellite. In fact, they'd done it in a heartbeat; even in the midst of war the Atlantic and Eurasian Federations were allies of convenience only, and cared little for each other.

So the Atlantic Federation had shed no tears over Nova; except inasmuch as the PLANTs gained a new defense fortress, and they had egg on their faces from being outsmarted by ZAFT... even if they had no idea exactly who had done it to them. As far as they were aware, the Grimaldi Falcon's only role in the battle had been as a fiendishly-effective mobile suit pilot.

No, a direct, all-out slugging match was the last thing Andrew Waltfeld expected from Commander Kenneth DiFalco... which was exactly why it worked.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria

* * *

Mu, Kira, and Sophia were all in the cafeteria, as the _Archangel_ approached what would soon be a battlefield, eating a proverbial "last meal" before setting out once again. 

The Hawk of Endymion was mildly surprised that his young brother wasn't present, but only mildly; as far as he knew, no one on the _Archangel_ had yet seen the ace eat or sleep. _Either he's just very private,_ he thought, munching on a kebab, _or else Metzinger made sure he didn't have to eat or rest. Even money either way,_ he decided. _Never can tell with that guy._

Kira, in contrast to the apparently insatiable appetite of the older pilot, had barely touched his food at all. _The Desert Tiger,_ he thought. _Will I have to face you again? Will it come to me to take you down? I don't want to kill you..._

Mu glanced at him, and lifted an eyebrow. "You should eat more, you know," he commented. "We've got a big battle coming up, and if you don't eat enough, you won't have any strength." He slid another kebab onto the Coordinator's plate. "Here, have another; tastes great with yogurt sauce."

To his surprise, Kira looked almost stricken. _"Those, as it happens, go great with yogurt sauce..."_

"What's wrong?" Mu asked gently.

Kira shook himself. "It's just... the Tiger said the same thing, in Banadiya. That it tastes great with yogurt sauce, I mean."

The Hawk inclined his head. "You don't say; that man knows his food, at least." Of course, that wasn't the heart of the matter, and they both knew it. "Listen, Kira," he said quietly, "I understand what you're going through. It's hard to fight against an enemy you know personally; just forget him."

_Forget him?_ Kira thought. _Does that mean... I should forget Athrun, too?_

Oblivious to the Strike pilot's thoughts, Mu continued, "When you're fighting for your life against an opponent you know personally, it's that much harder to deliver the final blow. Just look at Falcon; he's been fighting the Buster since Heliopolis, but he won't strike the final blow. Although, of course, he claims he will if he has to, and frankly, I'm inclined to believe him." He met Kira's gaze soberly. "You'll be better off if you can emulate him, you know. I know Waltfeld made an impression on you, but he _is_ the enemy; no matter how hard it is for you to face him, you have to do it."

Kira sighed. "I know. But-"

A sudden explosion rocked the ship, interrupting the conversation.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"What just happened?" Ken demanded. "That wasn't a direct hit, but _something_ sure as blazes just blew up out there." 

"Checking now, Commander," Tonomura replied, hastily consulting his console's displays. "Sir, we have two ZAFT land battleships dead ahead, and they're firing into the minefield!"

"Confirmed," Sai said a moment later. "We're not being targeted directly; those are shockwaves from multiple detonations."

"Wonderful," Ken said, to no one in particular. "Just what we need: Andy getting wise to part of the plan."

"But only part," Murrue reminded him. "Falcon, I think you should probably get to your machine; it looks like the battle is going to be starting sooner than we thought."

"Agreed." The ace was already unfastening his trench coat as he headed for the elevator, all the while mentally modifying his plans. "Have Sophia and Mu get to their aircraft," he said over his shoulder to Mir, "and get Kira to the Strike. We're launching ASAP."

"Roger that." The Bridge hatch closed behind the pilot, and Mir activated her intercom. "All hands to Level One Battlestations," she called. "Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations. All pilots, to your mobile weapons immediately; battle will commence in..." She consulted a timer display. "...fifteen minutes. Prepare to launch as soon as you're loaded into the catapults." She paused. "And good luck out there; we're counting on you guys."

"We're not entirely helpless ourselves, you know," Tolle pointed out from the helm. "The _Archangel_ has good defenses of her own."

Natarle considered ordering the younger crewmen to cut the chatter, but reminded herself that they were very new recruits, who had never even been through proper military training. "That's correct as far as it goes, Crewman Koenig," she said after a moment, "and I doubt the land battleships will be much of a threat, but _Archangel_ is far less adept at protecting herself against mobile suit attacks. For that, we need our mobile units."

"Of course, Ma'am," Tolle said sheepishly. "I should have remembered." _Especially after the Blitz nearly blew up the Bridge,_ he reminded himself. _If it weren't for Kira, we wouldn't be here right now._ In that particular instance, it _had_ been Kira alone; the Grimaldi Falcon had been very busy at the time. _And now it's up to them again... good luck, guys._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Pilots' Locker Room

* * *

Ken didn't join the other pilots in donning their flightsuits; as always, he chose to do so in his own quarters, where he could make his own... special arrangements... out of sight of anyone else. The others had no such problems, of course; and, though somewhat puzzled, were unaware of the ace's reasons. 

Mu, having pulled on his own distinctive flightsuit, was now arguing over the intercom with the mechanics. "That's right," he said, "Launcher on the first machine, and Sword on the second one." A brief pause, while someone said something back to him. "I'll tell you why," he replied harshly, "because the spare Launcher is down, and I can't hit the broadside of a barn with the Sword's weaponry!"

Sophia hid a smile, noticing that the other pilot shut off the intercom without waiting for a reply. "I think they get the point, Mu," she commented mildly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Did you actually have to shout?"

Mu snorted. "Hey, Sophia, don't tell me _you_ never had any problems with the mechanics talking back to you." He shook his head. "I know they think they own the machines, and we're just 'borrowing' them, but I sometimes wish they'd realize the pilots really _do_ have a better idea of what they need out there."

She shrugged. "They were never _that_ bad; though I remember one guy who shouted at me for five minutes after I brought my fighter back from a nasty run-in with a BuCUE. I was missing one wing -gotta love lifting-body fuselages; they'll bring you back even with a wing shot off- and managed to wreck one of my guns by firing a longer burst than it was designed to handle. But you know what he was ticked off about? I'd _scratched the paint._ Never mind that I barely got back alive; he was more irritated that I'd ruined the paint job."

"Well," the Hawk pointed out, "at least Murdoch's not _that_ bad." He turned to Kira, who had thus far been silent. "You know," he said, changing the subject, "I really hate to say it, but I don't think we can rely on the fighting strength of those guerrillas."

Kira nodded. "I know." As the three headed for the hatch, he paused. "Uh, by the way..." he began slowly. "What exactly is a 'Berserker'? Do either of you know?"

Sophia stiffened momentarily, while Mu merely raised an eyebrow. "'Berserker'?" he repeated. "Well, the word originally referred to a warrior who went crazy with rage when in battle."

"A crazed warrior?" _Does that mean...?_

The Hawk nodded. "Yeah. Berserkers were normally gentle and well-behaved, but when they went into battle, they turned into completely different people." He smiled slightly. "But that, of course, isn't what you're asking, is it? You're confused about your own actions, during some of those battles, and I guess you heard somebody make reference to the Berserker state, right?"

Kira jerked. "How did you...?"

"Falcon explained it to me, the night we landed," Mu explained. "And besides... I'm one myself."

"You are?" Now the young Coordinator was getting _really_ confused. "But, what _is_ it, exactly?"

"It's technically called the SEED factor," Sophia replied, fielding the question. "Stands for 'Superior Evolutionary Element Destined-factor'. In practical terms, it means that, when the individuals possessing the SEED -genetic type has nothing to do with it- reach a certain stress level, they enter almost a trance state, in which their mental processes speed up dramatically, along with their reflexes, and their spatial awareness increases greatly. That's why you've been able to pull off some pretty spectacular stunts from time to time."

Kira nodded slowly, eyes wide. "I guess I understand... Wait a minute. Is Falcon...?"

She nodded. "In a manner of speaking, yes. But it was engineered into him deliberately, by Doctor Metzinger, and his results far exceed those of any other that I'm aware of. So far as I know, he's the only _Hyper_ Berserker in existence, and I think his stress levels have to get a lot higher before it kicks in."

"Actually," Mu corrected, "I think it's more a matter of it being harder to stress him out in the first place; remember, he's got more _combat_ flight time than the rest of us, and his experience makes him very confident. But yeah, when he _does_ get stressed out, watch out. I've seen records of the Bloody Valentine, and believe me, from the time he went Berserker, nobody who crossed his path survived."

"Huh..." _That explains our first battle with Waltfeld's forces,_ Kira thought. _No wonder his machine is full of stress fractures._

_"All pilots to your machines _immediately," Mir's voice said over the PA system, sounding impatient. _"Battle will commence within minutes."_

"Guess we better get moving," Mu remarked.

"Yeah." Sophia picked up her helmet. "Saddle up; lock and load."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar/Catapults

* * *

Falcon was just about to seal Raptor's hatch when he heard rapid footsteps on the catwalk leading to it. "Wait!" a voice called. 

He looked up from his preparations, and raised an eyebrow. "Cagalli? Just what are you doing here?" He glanced at the watch built into his sleeve. "I'm supposed to launch in about a minute, you know."

"That's why I'm here," Cagalli told him. "You need a gunner, don't you?"

Ken just looked at her for several moments, considering. At last, he said, "Need? No. Appreciate? ...Yes." He jerked his head toward the rear seat. "Get in; and be quick about it. We're on a tight schedule today."

She snorted, climbing in. "And when are you _not?"_

"Probably never," the pilot conceded, sealing the hatch. Then he keyed his radio. "Bridge, this is Falcon; ready for cat launch."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mir replied. _"You'll be moved to the port catapult as soon as Commander La Flaga has launched; Commander DiFalco will be following Kira out."_

"Affirmative; standing by." He switched frequencies. "Kira, this is Falcon; you ready?"

"Yeah," Kira replied, already in the starboard catapult. "I'll be launching as soon as I have a Striker pack mounted."

A new voice broke in. _"You sure you'll be okay with just the Aile pack?"_ Murdoch asked.

"Yes," the Coordinator said without hesitation. "These are BuCUEs we're dealing with, and I need as much mobility as possible."

_"Roger that."_

_"Falcon, this is the Bridge. Commander La Flaga has launched, and you are clear for loading into Catapult Two."_

"I copy." As his machine began to move, Ken glanced over his shoulder. "This your first catapult launch, Cagalli?"

"Yeah," she replied. "But I've been through mass driver launches before."

"In that case, I wouldn't worry. Compared to a mass driver, this will be gentle." He paused. "Almost."

_"Hey, Commander,"_ Murdoch called. _"Any special equipment this time?"_

Before answering, the ace checked his own copy of the maintenance records. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Give me the spare Launcher pack's shoulder unit."

_"But the spare Launcher is- oh."_ The mechanic broke off. _"It's just the Agni that's down. Okay, Commander, roger that."_

Cagalli looked at Ken curiously. "You enjoy showing up the mechanics, don't you?"

"At times," he admitted. He was quite for several seconds, as the equipment was mounted, and finally keyed his radio again. "This is Falcon. We're ready to go."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mir responded. _"You're go for launch on your command."_

"Affirmative." Ken gripped his controls. "Grimaldi Falcon; Raptor Gundam launching."

* * *

Talbadiya Factory District

* * *

Two mobile suits and two mobile armors flew out into the combat zone, and were immediately confronted by several Agile attack helicopters. 

Raptor and Strike each blasted a couple out of the sky with their Igelstellungs, and then Sophia chuckled to herself. "You guys get going," she radioed. "I'll handle the choppers; nothing but targets with a mediocre weapons loadout."

Falcon nodded. "Roger that, Kestrel."

"So what's the plan?" Mu asked, banking to flash past one of the choppers. "I make it two land battleships, five BuCUEs -plus a couple of things I can't get a good look at- and a bunch of ZuOOTs on the ships' decks." He paused. "And the Buster and Duel, atop the _Lesseps."_

Ken cursed quietly to himself, perplexing Cagalli, and then radioed back, "Kira and I will take the BuCUEs; we're better suited for it. Mu, while Sophia deals with the helicopters, I suggest you try and take those battleships. Buster and Duel won't be able to shoot very well from they are, and ZuOOTs, as Sophia has repeatedly said, are clay pigeons."

"Roger that. But what _about_ Duel and Buster?"

"I don't care about the Duel," he said flatly. "But leave Buster to me."

"Got it. Good luck out there, Falcon."

"There's no such thing as luck." The ace looked over at Kira. "Amigo, think you can handle the BuCUEs by yourself?"

Kira hesitated for a moment, but nodded at last. "I think so," he said, more confidently than he thought. "You going after the Buster?"

"Affirmative; and Victor's LaGOWE, if he's out here somewhere."

"Okay. Be careful, Falcon."

Ken angled Raptor away from the main battle and drew a beam saber, shaking his head. "Why do people see the need to tell me that?" he muttered.

"Probably because you need a keeper," Cagalli retorted. "I've seen you fly, remember; don't you think playing 'one-man army' is a little reckless?"

"Not if you have the ability to back it up." He fell silent, watching _Lesseps_ grow steadily larger. _There you are, Dearka. Will you shoot to kill, this time? If those are your orders... then I expect you to carry them out._ He smiled thinly to himself. _Besides, I don't wanna get bored up here._

Dearka watched the slate-grey machine approach, and a ball of ice formed in his gut. _I know what you're doing, Falcon,_ he thought. _You're coming after _me, _aren't you? But why? Are actually _asking _me to try to kill you?_

He sighed. He hadn't understood his friend's motivations at all since they first ran into each other again outside Artemis. Who knew, maybe he _did_ have a death wish. _On the other hand, everybody _else _that's tried to kill him in this desert has gotten blown up._

The ZAFT pilot wasn't at all surprised when a voice came over his radio. "That's you, right, Dearka?" it asked. "I don't imagine anybody _else_ would be flying that machine."

"What do you want, Falcon?" Dearka demanded. "You know what I have to do."

"Mm-hm. That's exactly why I sought you out, old friend." Falcon's image raised an eyebrow. "After all, I'm the one who's most likely to be able to knock you ought of this fight."

Dearka could hear another voice in the background. "You _know_ this guy?"

"Of course I do; he's my best friend." Ken glanced over his shoulder at the unseen speaker. "Let me handle the Buster; or, if you _have_ to shoot at him, use disarming attacks only. I don't want him dead."

"You're pretty confident," Cagalli muttered. "You'd better not get us both killed."

"I won't. I know what I'm doing." A slight pause. "I think."

Dearka shook himself. _Enough; there's no room for talking anymore. Forgive me, Falcon._ He triggered his beam rifle.

Ken saw it coming, batted the streak of light aside, and smiled. The battle had begun.

* * *

While Ken dueled with the Buster, Sophia blasted choppers out of the sky, and Mu fired blast after blast from the Agni at the land battleship _Petrie,_ Kira flew cover for the resistance fighters. They were the weakest, and they were also bested by the BuCUEs, so it was his job to help them out. 

He didn't expect to have too much trouble this time. He'd fought BuCUEs twice before, and now had a good idea as to their combat capability, and how to counter them. He knew that the Aile package would give him the advantage in mobility, while his beam rifle and sabers would give him an edge in firepower.

_Wait a minute,_ Kira thought, enhancing the image of the first BuCUE. _It's been modified..._ His stomach clenched briefly as he realized that, with the addition of head-mounted double beam sabers, the BuCUEs now had the capability to harm him without simply running him out of energy.

"But I still have the advantage in mobility," he told himself. "So let's do it."

Diving in on the first BuCUE, Kira didn't even notice the night-black LaGOWE that powered across the desert toward Raptor's private battle.

* * *

While Ken used Raptor's beam saber and grappler/shield to keep Dearka's shots from hitting them, Cagalli used the beam cannons and shoulder-mounted weaponry to blast anything else she could see. 

_It would be easier,_ she thought, _if he wasn't moving around so much._ With the mobile suit dancing around in the air, she was having a hard time getting a clear shot at anything; but when the opportunity _did_ arise, she didn't hesitate. Which, of course, was why _Lesseps_ and _Petrie_ both had a number of smoking holes in them already.

"This machine's pretty impressive," she commented, zeroing in on a ZuOOT and blasting it to pieces. "Not many machines have this kind of firepower."

"That's true," Ken grunted, batting a green dart into one of _Lesseps'_ gun turrets. "Unfortunately, we're facing one of them right now."

Nor was Dearka their only problem. Yzak, having noticed how ineffective Buster's fire seemed to be, had decided to take a hand in the battle himself; besides, he wasn't having much luck hitting the _Archangel,_ anyway. "Try this, Grimaldi Falcon," he whispered, and triggered his entire ranged armament.

Cagalli didn't have time to shout a warning; nor did she need to. Ken used his beam saber to swat yet another beam, triggered his Igelstellungs to destroy the missile barrage, took the railgun hit on his shield, and boosted sideways to dodge the grenade. "You'll have to do better than that, Joule."

"I think we can manage that, Falcon," another voice said. "Care for a rematch?"

Cagalli saw the newly-repainted LaGOWE on her targeting screen. "Ken, it's him again..."

"Yeah, I see him." Eyes narrow, Ken jetted away from the _Lesseps_ to face this new threat. "Hello, Victor. Come to try and kill me again?"

"Maybe I just have a death wish," Huckebein replied, charging his beam cannons.

"That, I can believe." Wasting no more time on small talk, Raptor dove in, saber outstretched, ready for the clash the pilot knew was coming.

For once, Huckebein did something unexpected: rather than block the blow with his own head-mounted sabers, he jumped backwards, and let fly with a shot from his cannons. "Not so fast, Falcon!"

One arm came up, taking the beam on the shield, while Cagalli triggered Raptor's shoulder- and back-mounted weapons. They mostly missed, but a barrage from the Vulcan gun chipped away at the LaGOWE's armor. "You're getting better," Ken remarked; she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the ZAFT pilot.

The two machines clashed blades again, and the LaGOWE sprang past, racing away to come around for another pass.

This was not going to be as easy as their last encounter.

* * *

One truck full of resistance fighters was attacking the _Petrie_ when the BuCUEs got around to attacking them; the pair of guerrillas firing rockets at the huge land battleship didn't even realize the danger until it was too late. 

Those in the truck nearest theirs cried out in anger and fear as a BuCUE simply ran their comrades down, then turned its attention to _them._ "Look out!" one called frantically to their driver. "Get out of here-!"

_I won't let it happen!_ The Strike, already in motion, dropped to just a few meter above the sand, flying backwards in front of the ZAFT machine. "Take this!" Kira shouted, and fired his beam rifle; the arcing green death caught the BuCUE right in the face, traveling back through it till it went into the cockpit, beyond, and struck the machine's energy battery.

The resulting energy release was quite catastrophic; only the Strike -and its PSA- saved the Desert Dawn vehicle from being immolated. But saved it was, and the guerrillas once again were reminded why it was a good thing they'd welcomed the _Archangel_ with open arms instead of machine guns.

_That's one down,_ Kira thought. _Now for the next._ He noticed, as he searched for the next target, that Ken was engaged in his own battle, but declined to intervene. _Falcon can handle himself; and I have my own job to do. Ah,_ he thought, narrowing his eyes. _There's another one._

Boosting back into the air, Strike went hunting for its next target.

* * *

Yzak had stopped shooting at the Raptor the moment Huckebein entered the fray, and was now back to taking potshots at the _Archangel._ "Maybe one of them will actually buy it this time," he remarked to Dearka. "I'm not even sure if I care which; Huckebein's a creepy bastard." 

"He didn't use to be," the Buster's pilot said absently, shooting at -and missing- Sophia's Skygrasper. "But ever since he and Falcon had their falling out on the Grimaldi Front, he's gone nuts."

"So those two _do_ know each other." It wasn't a question; Yzak had figured that out just about the day _Nacht Jaeger_ hooked up with the _Vesalius._ "I thought so; but how?"

"Long story," Dearka replied. "I'll tell you, sometime when we _aren't_ being shot at." He cursed then, seeing a ZuOOT detonate. "Whoever that mobile armor pilot is, he's good."

"She," the silver-haired pilot corrected grimly. "I recognize those colors; it's the Victorian Kestrel, and she's notorious for blowing up ZuOOTs in desert battlefields." He paused, thinking. "I think her name was... DiFalco. Yeah, that's it, Sophia DiFalco."

Dearka's eyes went wide. _"That's_ a surprise," he said, startled. When Yzak shot him a puzzled look, he explained, "I know the woman, Yzak; she's Falcon's sister, and last I remember, she was a useless, obnoxious science academy student. At least, that's what Falcon told me she was. I _know_ she was obnoxious and useless."

"Well," his friend grunted, firing another useless shot, "either Commander DiFalco lied to you, or she lied to him. Either way, it doesn't matter much to us, does it?"

"No," Buster's pilot conceded, "I guess it doesn't."

* * *

"Another day, another swordfight," Ken muttered to himself. "You know, I'm getting really tired of facing Victor blade-to-blade." 

"Then why don't you try something else, liking shooting at him?" Cagalli suggested, a touch snappishly. "Maybe then you'd actually manage to kill him."

"Actually," he replied tightly, parrying another leaping attack from the LaGOWE, "I already tried that a couple times; it didn't work too well. I guess it'll have to end as it began, my blade against his."

"Ridiculous," she snorted, using a gun launcher attack to blast another chunk off Huckebein's armor. "At least you don't have to get right in his face with a beam rifle."

"Don't you believe in chivalry?"

"No," she said flatly.

"That's good; neither do I." With that unexpected quip, Ken went back to trying to slice his former pupil to sushi. It was not, perhaps, the easiest task in the world, but he did have the advantage of being rather more mobile; even if Tempest _was_ being surprisingly effective with his head-mounted sabers.

_It's only a matter of time, Victor,_ the ace thought to himself, dodging a pair of narrow green columns of coherent light. _I could probably take you right now... but I'm not that reckless. I'll make sure you really _don't _have any other tricks up your sleeve before I pulverize you._

Then Huckebein decided to prove that he _did_ have another trick up his sleeve... by fooling the Grimaldi Falcon himself.

No warrior was perfect. Even the best made mistakes; even the masters sometimes fell prey to feints. That was exactly what happened to Ken DiFalco this day, when his former friend's LaGOWE leapt at him in what seemed to be another fairly standard leaping slash.

But it wasn't.

To make the feint all the more believable, Tempest actually did twist his machine's head for another slash; but there was no real power to the attack, and he allowed Raptor's parry to divert him off-course... and that was when he altered the paradigm by swiveling his beam cannons around at exactly the right moment.

Cagalli cried out when the green blast struck the machine. _This is, we're dead..._she thought... and realized a moment later that she should have been dead before the thought entered her head.

When she opened her eyes, Ken was wrenching the controls as hard he could, pressing the vernier control to the cockpit floor, and cursing up a storm while staring at the now static-filled forward viewscreens. "That bastard!" he hissed.

"What just happened?" Cagalli demanded. "Why are the targeting systems down?"

"Because that bastard just blew our freakin' head off, that's why!" he snarled. "That's why we can't see a freakin' thing out the front!"

She swallowed. "Then what do we do now?"

"We try a calculated risk," Ken replied, regaining some of his cool. "Or more precisely, as last resort. If this fails, we're out of power... and dead."

Raptor's targeting systems had been lost when Huckebein destroyed its head. That rendered the beam rifle, cannons, and rocket anchor useless; and he couldn't see to use the sabers without forward cameras.

But there was one weapon that relied entirely upon his own powers of spatial awareness, and Ken reached for the controls for the Death Blossoms.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

The fight might have gone smoothly for the ship's mobile weapons so far -except for the incident with Raptor, which was still in progress- but for the _Archangel,_ things hadn't been so simple. 

Oh, they had been at first, with just the two ships to deal with; but now a new factor entered the equation, quite unexpectedly.

"Missiles incoming from six o'clock!" Sai called. "There's another ship out there!"

"Set Igelstellungs to point-defense mode," Natarle snapped. "Identify that ship for me, ASAP!"

Sophia's face appeared on a monitor. _"It's the _Henry Carter she said tightly. _"Same class as the _Petrie; _I remember her from Suez."_

"Can you help?" Murrue asked.

_"Affirmative; all helicopters are destroyed, so I think I can spare a little time to cover you."_ Sketching a brief salute, Sophia's image vanished.

"Target the Valiants on that land battleship," Natarle ordered. "Take that ship down."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Pal immediately replied. "Changing targeting priority."

"What's the status of our mobile suits?" Murrue queried of Mir. "Are they still in the fight?"

"Affirmative," the young woman replied, checking her displays. "I'm not sure of their exact status -the situation is too chaotic- but Kira is still going after the BuCUEs... and Falcon seems to be engaged in combat with a LaGOWE." She stiffened. "Ma'am, according to telemetry, his targeting systems and forward cameras are down."

The Captain cursed. "Roger." _I'm sorry, Falcon; but we can't help right now. Good luck out there... and _don't _die on us._

* * *

Talbadiya Factory District

* * *

For an instant, it was a frozen tableau. Victor Tempest's LaGOWE crouched for another leap, beam cannons aimed this time at a more critical area; while Raptor stood headless, looking almost lost. 

"The headless horseman, eh, Falcon?" Huckebein murmured. "Well, time to make you _bodiless,_ too." He began to spring forward.

Falcon's keen mind kept track of his enemy's path despite being unable to see him, and he deployed the Raptor's iconic weapons in a power-intensive, spiraling arc. _Right... about... now..._ He pulled the triggers, spitting rapid-fire darts of energy at the LaGOWE.

Tempest saw it coming. "What the-?" He tried to dodge, but it was far, far too late. Three of his legs were blown away, along with his beam cannons, and his machine collapsed into the sand.

"You should know better by now, Victor," Ken said coldly. "The apprentice cannot hope to defeat the master; you know that."

"Kill me, Falcon!" Huckebein shouted. "Just kill me, and be done with it!"

Raptor turned away, guided by what optical sensors remained to it. "I have no time to finish you, Victor," the ace said softly. "Nor," he added, as his machine reverted to standard gunmetal gray, "do I have the weapon power. I'll see you another day, Victor."

_"Falcon!"_ Tempest clenched his fists, enraged as he watched his former comrade fly away once again. _"Finish the job, you coward!"_

"Wow," Cagalli commented to the pilot, ignoring the shout from behind them. "That was... pretty impressive."

"It was also something I only did because I didn't have much choice," Ken said quietly, homing in on the _Archangel._ "We only had a few moments of power left, and without targeting data, that was pretty much all we had left." He tapped his radio controls, setting a frequency. "But now, we're out of the fight."

She nodded glumly. "Oh, man. Well, I guess it could have been worse."

"Yeah, it could have. If you'd been flying a Skygrasper or something out there, you'd probably be dead or at least downed; a battle like this isn't the place for an inexperienced pilot." Ken keyed the radio. _"Archangel,_ this is Falcon. We've taken some bad hits, so I'm RTB."

_"Negative on that, Falcon,"_ Mir replied, voice taut. _"I'm sorry, but we can't open launch bays at this time; we're caught on some kind of debris, and can't move."_ She swallowed audibly. _"And we're being shot at by another land battleship; your sister ID'd it as the _Henry Carter, _if that means anything to you."_

"Yeah, it does." He cursed softly. "All right, I'll try to hang back; I'd help out, but we've barely got enough power to _move,_ let alone fight." He paused. "What about Kira? How's he doing?"

_"He's taken out at least one of the BuCUEs; I think he's right near you now, going after another-"_

Another voice broke in. "Falcon, look out!"

Ken's eye snapped to the starboard viewscreen. The Strike was flying toward at high speed... and coming even faster was the BuCUE he was chasing. It had seen the vulnerable Raptor, and decided to take advantage of its lack of Phase-shift.

There was no way for Kira to take it out before it could put a railgun shot through Raptor's cockpit; and with no power, Ken couldn't exactly pull the same stunt with his Death Blossoms again. But he still had one weapon available, one that he shared with the Strike.

Raptor's hands descended to its hip armor, even as the two compartments there popped open. Huge metal fingers grasped the hidden Armor Schneider knives, and raised them swiftly to attack position. Ken was operating entirely by instinct when he threw the two blades... but his instinct proved adequate.

One knife missed completely; the other did not, piercing the BuCUE's cockpit. There was no explosion, but the machine nonetheless slumped. After all, a pilotless machine was capable of very little on its own.

Kira, seeing that threat neutralized, spun around to face a second BuCUE that had come calling. _I don't think so,_ he thought, eyes narrow. _I won't let you!_ A blade of frozen fire flashed, and another machine split apart, exploding harmlessly -except to the pilot, at least- a hundred meters from its intended target.

"You okay, Falcon?" he asked, concerned; now that he had a chance to look, he noticed that not only was Raptor missing its head, but there were also gouges in the armor, from its duel with a LaGOWE.

"We're okay," Ken replied. "Thanks for the backup."

Cagalli nodded gratefully. "Yeah, Kira, we're fine. Thanks."

Kira blinked. "Cagalli? What are _you_ doing there?"

"What does it matter?" she answered, sounding a little sharp. "I _do_ know how to aim a gun, you know; and besides, I thought I'd be more useful here than down on the ground."

"If you say so." He wasn't inclined to argue; and besides, there wasn't time.

Ken attempted to check the tactical situation, but discovered he couldn't; Raptor had taken more damage than he'd realized and the detection systems seemed to be down. "So what's the situation, Kira?" he asked, abandoning the attempt. "What about the other two BuCUEs?"

Kira glanced to where the two enemy machines were. "I don't think they'll be a problem much longer," he said after a moment. "I think your sister and Commander La Flaga have them under control."

"Do they, now?" Orienting his remaining cameras toward the small battle, Ken smiled slightly. The two machines were beset by a pair of Skygraspers, and the dizzying patterns they were flying seemed to have disoriented the BuCUE pilots.

Before his eyes, his two siblings -one biological, one adopted- appeared to tire of the game, and the pair moved with unspoken coordination. Sophia's distinctive blue-and-gold machine flew just meters above the sand, bobbing and weaving to further confuse her target's pilot, and turned away from her seemingly suicidal course at the last possible moment. At the same time, she fired her beam turret, sending an emerald dart into the machine's cockpit.

The other BuCUE was momentarily distracted by his partner's abrupt departure from the mortal plane, and thus managed to miss Mu's Skygrasper diving in on him. "Take _this!"_ A bolt of red blazed out from under his port wing, a beam with the heat of the sun, and scorched its way through the BuCUE from tail to chin. Another brilliant explosion lit the sky, and the ZAFT mobile suit force was no more.

Almost.

A blast of coherent light fused sand into a lump of glass not two meters from the Raptor, and Ken instinctively leapt away; needlessly, as it turned out.

For the pilot of the forgotten second LaGOWE had no interest in the Grimaldi Falcon at all. "Hey there, hotshot," Andy Waltfeld murmured. "Ready for a rematch?"

Kira tensed. _Uh oh._ "Falcon," he radioed, "you'd better get out of here. You can't do any more good in your condition."

Ken nodded reluctantly. "I know. Be careful, amigo." His machine leapt away from the ensuing battle retreating as fast as it could.

"Are you going to help him?" Cagalli demanded.

"With what? We're out of weapon power, and I used both combat knives on that BuCUE." The ace shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Kira's right. We can't help him now." He keyed his radio again. _"Archangel,_ Falcon here; what's your status?"

_"We're about to break free, I think,"_ Mir answered. _"Just a-"_

Light erupted from the _Lesseps'_ deck, spearing across the sky toward _Archangel_.

* * *

Talbadiya Factory District/_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Dearka, noticing that Falcon was away from the _Archangel,_ saw his chance at last. "I'm gonna finish this now!" she shouted, and fired his hyper-impulse rifle at the so-called "legged ship". 

He missed completely.

Neumann felt a surge of elation as the beam struck the obstruction that had held _Archangel_ in place. "We're free!" he called, bringing the ship's bow into the sky once more.

Murrue smiled. "Good! Now let's get them." For a moment, she considered ordering an attack on the _Lesseps,_ but discarded the notion; they might blow up the Buster in the process, and she didn't want to explain to Falcon why they'd just killed his best friend.

Even if he _was_ the enemy.

"Bring us around," she ordered finally. "Target both Gottfrieds on the _Henry Carter;_ take her down."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Natarle acknowledged, as pleased as any of them to be finally moving again. "Mr. Pal, fire as ordered."

"Aye, aye," the fire-control operator answered.

As soon as Tolle and Neumann had brought the ship around, Pal smiled slightly -he wasn't immune to wanting to get some of their own back- and fired the Gottfrieds directly at the _Henry Carter._

The resulting explosion was quite cataclysmic, and Mir turned back to her displays with renewed confidence. "Okay, Falcon," she called, "it's clear. We're opening the starboard flight deck now. Ready when you are."

_"Gracias." _Raptor took to the sky once again, heading back to base... while Ken's protégé faced his own foe, alone.

* * *

Talbadiya Factory District

* * *

"You sure you want to do this?" Aisha asked from the LaGOWE's gunner's seat (unlike Victor Tempest, Waltfeld preferred to operate with a full crew). "I know this will be hard for you..." 

The Tiger didn't take his eyes from his quarry; a quarry he knew could not have much power remaining. "What do you mean?"

"Don't give me that, Andy," she chided. "I know you're fond of the kid."

"Maybe I am... but he's still the enemy." Waltfeld smiled. "Besides, it's been too long since I had a decent challenge."

Kira, for his part, wasn't looking forward to the confrontation at all. _I don't want to fight you, Waltfeld..._ But, just like Ken, he knew his duty. More than that, he knew what would happen to his friends if he failed. _I have no choice... not at all._

"All right," Waltfeld murmured, gazing intently at his displays. "Let's go!"

The LaGOWE rushed forward on its treads, spitting green fire at the Strike as it went. This time, the Desert Tiger wasn't playing. It was to be a battle to the death.

The pressure began to build in Kira's mind. _Can I do this? Falcon wouldn't have any trouble... No. He said that I can handle myself... so it's time to prove it._

Strike jumped sideways, letting the ZAFT machine go past like a matador dodging a bull, and lifted his own rifle. The fast-moving LaGOWE would be a difficult target, but he had a chance. _It won't be easy... but it never is, is it?_ He pulled the trigger, sending his own deadly fire back at his foe.

"You won't get me that easy, kid," Waltfeld called, returning fire. "You're a hot hand, even in the desert, but are you good enough?"

Kira was forced to cease fire, hiding behind his shield as shot after shot splattered against it. "We don't have to do this, Waltfeld!"

"Oh, yes, we do," the Tiger countered. "And you know it, kid." His machine came around in a wide turn, and made another leap at the Strike.

This time he was on the mark, catching the machine's shield, and Kira cried out as Strike began to fall backwards. Startled or not, though, he kept his wits enough to fire another shot from his beam rifle.

"He's good!" Aisha called, struggling to keep her guns on target as the now _three_-legged LaGOWE made a hard but -relatively- safe landing. "He's gonna get us if we're not careful!"

"I know." Waltfeld's eyes narrowed. "But we can still take him; this fight's barely started," he added, as Aisha squeezed the trigger again.

Above the battle, watching tensely, two Skygraspers circled. "I don't like the looks of this," Sophia muttered. "I'm going in."

"Negative," Mu said instantly. "You don't want to risk that with your current weapons loadout. Besides, Kira can handle this himself."

"You sure?" she said dubiously. "And just why are you so determined to just let this play out?"

"This is something they have to settle between themselves," he said easily. "I'd do the same, if I were facing Rau Le Creuset. Well," he amended, "I might accept Falcon's help; he's got a prior claim against the guy. But for right now, let Kira handle this himself."

"If you say so..."

Down below, another beam connected with Kira's rifle, blowing it apart. "Why do we have to keep this up?" he demanded, sheltering behind his shield. "It doesn't have to be this way!"

"Like I said," Waltfeld retorted, coming around yet again, "there are no clear rules for ending a war like this." He leapt, twisting to use his sabers against his opponent. "So how do you determine the winners and the losers?"

Kira drew his own saber at the same moment, and when their paths merged and separated, both took damage. One of Strike's wings went flying, while the LaGOWE's beam cannons sheared off and exploded; thus rendering Aisha a mere passenger.

"At what point do we put an end to it?" Deftly maneuvering the three-legged machine, Waltfeld spun around. "When every single one of your enemies has been eliminated?"

Kira looked down at his displays for an instant, and tensed when he saw how close to being exhausted his energy reserves were. _I can't keep this up; I have to end it, now..._ "Don't do it, Waltfeld!" he warned, tossing away his shield and brandishing his other energy blade.

"I have no intention of surrendering," Waltfeld informed him, readying himself for another leap. "It's not in my character!"

"Then _you're_ one of those who would rather perish," the Strike pilot retorted. This time, he deflected the LaGOWE's leap with a deft parry against its beam sabers.

"Maybe I am... but I'm not giving up... until one of us is destroyed!" Waltfeld gathered the LaGOWE's legs and sprang one final time... just as the Strike ran out of power at last.

And behind Kira's eyes, an amethyst seed burst.

For him, the world seemed to slow down. While his opponent was making his almost leisurely lunge, his fingers danced across the controls. He threw aside both sabers, ejected the Striker pack, and drew both his Armor Schneiders.

"It ends now, hotshot!" Waltfeld shouted. His machine came within meters of the Strike...

Kira jumped clear over the charging LaGOWE, turned over and around in the air, drove both knives into the LaGOWE's back, and dropped to his knees in the sand.

Within the battered machine, now falling to the earth, Aisha unstrapped. "Andy!" she cried, lunging for the Desert Tiger. He, too, released his straps, and caught her in his arms.

The LaGOWE erupted in a fury of light and energy, blasting the Strike backwards in the midst of the small cataclysm.

Then it was over, and Kira sat in his chair, breathing heavily. "But... but..." he gasped. "No one had to die here today!"

* * *

Author's note: So ends _Archangel_'s sojourn through the desert. Now, leaving the sandy battlefields behind, they will begin their trek across the sea… where new and old enemies alike will be waiting for them… 

Okay. The desert arc is finished, so now maybe my chapter titles will get a little more imaginative. And maybe the next chapter won't be quite so long; I'm surprised my fingers didn't fall off in the midst of it.

Ominae, I don't see any reason for Ahmed to join the Three Ships Alliance (technically, Clyne Faction is applicable only to the _Eternal,_ if memory serves); after all, the only characters from the desert sequence who _do_ are Cagalli and Kisaka, and both of them have an overriding allegiance to Orb. The resistance fighters are pretty much concerned only with their own land.

Easy-Company-506-101, you weren't the only one having problems with the site; it was driving me insane for a couple of days. At least it seems to have finally cleared up.

Cagalli and Athrun will still meet on the deserted island, it'll just be a little different. As for how that might occur, when she's in the Raptor, let me put it to you this way: Falcon _hates_ planets; how well do you think he'd navigate if a freak hit were to, say, knock out his navigation systems? At night it would be fine; no doubt he's adept at stellar navigation. But during the day? He'd get lost in no time.

Infinite Freedom, as you can see, Sophia _wasn't_ in for anything after all; she's learning. What can Falcon complain about when _he's_ keeping secrets for what _he_ considers "perfectly good reasons".

Yes, Shiho was a Gray Demon, briefly; she was with the unit for a handful of missions, before being transferred out just in time to avoid Endymion. That will be expounded upon later.

As for Spit Break… no comment.

The identity of the woman Ken keeps thinking of won't be revealed for some time yet. As always, I've got the perfect moment planned for it, and I have no intention of deviating from my master plan.

Nice touch, signing off with the Russian word for comrade, by the way; you even got the spelling almost right. It's "tovarisch", not "toverisch".

Centurious, that is indeed what happens when you pull a gun on a ZAFT ace; particularly one who knows how to use a sword to lethal effect. Metzinger was never meant to survive beyond this point; you see, the final explanations haven't occurred yet, and it would be a pity to spoil it so early.

I'll have to try out those stories you mentioned, when I have the time; thanks for pointing them out.

NukeDawg, again, thanks for the information. I imagine I'll be reviewing your story in an hour or so, depending on when I get this finished.

I have to disagree with you on one point, though. Mu's experience -or lack thereof- with mobile suits has nothing to do with why he couldn't fly the Strike. If you'll remember Phase 3, he says of the -workable- OS that "A regular human being couldn't possibly grasp it anymore." I know that he isn't exactly a "regular" human being, but he does seem to be including himself with that statement. As for Rau, though… it has always been my opinion that someone as obsessed with having a proper successor as Al Da Flaga would arrange to have his clone made into a Coordinator. I suppose I _could _be wrong, but that always seemed the most likely explanation to me.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, I'm glad you still approve; I hope this chapter did not disappoint.

Ninofchaos, thanks; I took extra care with the Falcon/Desert Tiger interaction, since the two would obviously know each other… and, of course, there's the added complication that Falcon is, as far as ZAFT is concerned, a traitor.

Warp Ligia Obscura, you have just asked about what is quite possibly the most complicated part of Ken DiFalco's tale. Let me try to explain it (I say "try" because it really is _very_ complicated; I may have outsmarted myself with this one).

Okay. First of all, there are _three_ variations of the Shiva Option. The first is Falcon's original master plan to defeat the Earth Forces. GENESIS was a part of that, but a very small one; exactly what the rest of the plan was, I haven't thought of, and it doesn't really matter. That plan is no longer relevant.

The _second_ version is Patrick Zala's iteration, which _centers_ on GENESIS; that's why Falcon left the PLANTs in the first place.

The third Shiva Option is Falcon's plan to counter Zala's plan, which he himself currently has but a small role in; the real work is done by his minions still in the PLANTs. You'll have seen that at the beginning of this chapter.

With me so far? (I hope so, because I'm not sure _I_ am.)

Now, I'm well aware that the Preybird, being a lone mobile suit, couldn't stop GENESIS all by itself. But Falcon would know that, too; so Preybird is only _part_ of his plan. If you'll notice, there were references to his plan even before he designed the machine.

Thanks for the extra information about Shiho; I've managed to uncover a lot of it since then, from other sources, but it was helpful nonetheless.

I fixed the typo you mentioned, as you may have noticed; and no, I didn't mean to repeat that section of text. See, whenever I upload one of these chapters, everything is just how I left it… at first. But after I add proper section dividers and save the changes via Quick Edit, the system decides to do funny things with my italics. So I have to go in and fix _that,_ so it takes me an extra save command before it's actually ready for posting. Naturally, I miss a few sometimes, and that's exactly what happened with that section of text. Thanks for pointing it out. I try to fix those whenever they come to my attention.

Yeah, Metzinger wasn't too bright; but what do you expect? He was a geneticist, not a soldier. It probably never occurred to the absent-minded idiot that he might get sliced in half or have his head blown off or something. Good riddance in any case.

There's certainly more to know about the "mystery woman". Her tale is an important part of Falcon's but will not be fully explained for some time to come…

The "Lessons" actually do serve a purpose: they add depth to the character. Kevin Walker called people "tovarisch"; Ken DiFalco quotes Sun Tzu-like sayings. Every major character should have their own idiosyncrasies, and that's his.

I've finally gotten some information about Rondo Mina Sahaku, so don't worry about that; I think I've got what I need for A Call to Arms.

The canon back story behind the Hyperions doesn't really matter; the one appearing in this story will come from a different source anyway, as you may have noticed.

This whole "Newtype" thing is starting to drive me insane; looks like I'll have to do some research. You'd think something as important as that would be mentioned in the actual series…

Depressed suicidal writer, I'm glad you liked both this and Brothers in Arms; always reassuring to know that someone actually approves of it, given how long it takes me to write the things. One of these days it'll give me writer's cramp from typing; or maybe carpal tunnel.

Anyway, I'll be watching for your story. I'm always on the lookout for new stories in this section.

Rau Le Creuset 88, thanks for the ideas. I'm not sure how the anti-nuclear weapons barrier would work -the most logical explanation, given this universe, would be an N-jammer, but with N-jammer cancellers, that's something of a moot point. I'll have to think about it, though.

I've already got a different sort of shield in mind for Preybird; one which will be useful for a later event in the story. Pretty much the same thing with the cannons; as you'll note from the start of this chapter, I already have something in mind for that particular role.

The PX system, on the other hand… I'll consider using it if you'll just tell me what it _is._ I'm not familiar with Gundam the Last Outpost, and my usual source Gundam information doesn't seem to have it, either. So, with some knowledge of what it is, I'll certainly consider it.

You'll be seeing the unit fairly soon, I think; by my calculations, Chapter 20. I've got big plans for its inaugural appearance…

Shinji Ikari, I know it would be better to read the manga first to determine such things, but I must say two things: first of all, to borrow a phrase, I live four hundred miles north of everywhere. The Astray manga is _not_ the kind of thing you'll find in a bookstore around here. Second -since I know you'll point out the wonders of internet shopping- I should mention that I've heard the manga gets rather… risqué in places, and I find that somewhat distasteful.

Now, with Lowe Guele it won't be much of an issue anyway; his appearance will be quite brief. And Shiho… I've read some stories involving her, with pretty consistent portrayals of her personality, so I've got at least some idea of that. Maybe that isn't good enough, but it's really the best I can do.

My apologies for any accidental spoilers; I thought I phrased things obliquely enough, but perhaps not. I'll be more careful in future (I know, I know, I've said that before… but I mean it this time!). I've got no idea if you misread what I said, though, since I don't know how you interpreted it. I will say, though, that when I said I was keeping an eye out for character deaths, I wasn't speaking of anyone in particular. I was just saying I was keeping an eye on it. And I should point out that I _haven't_ said who dies and in what episode. I checked.

I don't know what you mean about ZAFT individuality; are you agreeing or disagreeing about it? If the latter, I should point out the sheer number of customized mobile suits they seem to have. And no, I haven't read the novel.

Glad you liked the scene with Metzinger; I was actually expecting to have to argue with you over it. Anyway, as mentioned earlier in the notes, Metzinger knows far more about science than combat; it's entirely possible he'd be stupid enough to think he could pull of such a monumentally idiotic stunt like that.

Finally, I'm afraid that if Destiny doesn't appear on Cartoon Network, the episode summaries will be my only recourse. See, I don't think I'll be getting the DVDs at all; I won't spend on money on something I'm not sure I'll even like that much. So if I don't see the episodes on Cartoon Network, I probably won't be seeing them at all.

In any case, I doubt that will be an issue; just about every series since Wing has turned up there, so it's likely a moot point anyway.

Argh; another ninety minutes -seems to be the average- down the drain. Time to see how long it takes to upload. -Solid Shark


	18. Chapter 18: A Time for Reflection

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, March 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

It was peaceful, where the desert ended at the Red Sea. One would never know that just days earlier, a fierce battle had been fought not far away. 

But those aboard the hovering ship that now sailed through the skies towards the water knew. The crew of the Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel_ knew very well what had happened, for they had been in the thick of it. That day, they had proved once more that the so-called "legged ship" was a force to be reckoned with; a force not to be taken lightly by anyone, even the legendary "Desert Tiger".

On the vessel's Bridge, the crew were more relaxed than they had been in weeks; and this time, they were reasonably confident their peace wouldn't be instantly shattered by a ZAFT attack in the middle of the night.

"Here we are, Captain," Ensign Arnold Neumann reported, smoothly guiding the ship down into the waters of the Red Sea. "Now entering the Red Sea."

Captain Murrue Ramius smiled. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, Ensign," she said feelingly. "It took us a lot longer to get here than I expected."

"But now we _are_ here, Murrue," Lieutenant Commander Sophia DiFalco remarked. "At long last. Hey, Falcon," she called, "what do you think are the odds we run into any ZAFT forces out here?"

The figure in the gray trench coat, leaning against one of the starboard bow bulkheads, glanced up. "I think we should be fairly safe for now," Commander Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco replied. "ZAFT's submarine forces have little interest in this area, or any others along our projected course, with the possible exception of the waters close to Australia. Generally, they're more worried about the waters near their own bases, and the occasional sortie to show the Earth Alliance's navy who's boss."

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Natarle Badgiruel nodded thoughtfully. "That's good to hear; though I would suggest that caution is still in order."

"Of course," he agreed, unruffled. "But I think we can afford to at least take some time to relax a little. Besides, it's a good idea from a tactical perspective, as well: a person can only remain at high alert for so long before either gradually losing their edge or, perhaps more likely, burning out completely."

"We wouldn't want _that_ to happen," Murrue murmured, and paused as a thought struck her. "Mr. Buskirk, please inform the crew that, for a short time, I will be allowing off-duty crew members to go out on deck for a little fresh air; it's time to bleed off a little stress."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Kuzzey Buskirk replied happily, and relayed the announcement with barely-suppressed excitement.

Meanwhile, Natarle decided it was time to check on their defensive preparations. When they'd made their dealings with the gunrunner Al-Jairi, they'd gotten some highly useful equipment, some which might make the difference between life and death out here. "Bridge to Chief Murdoch," she called over the intercom. "How's the sonar installation process going?"

_"On schedule so far,"_ Chief Petty Officer Kojiro Murdoch replied, from deeper within the ship. "The _kid's taking care of it now; it shouldn't be too much longer."_

"Understood; but please remember it's our best chance of detecting enemy activity out here before it strikes." Uncharacteristically, the lieutenant actually smiled slightly. "And Chief," she added, sounding oddly teasing, "I'd be careful about calling a superior officer 'kid', if I were you; that kind of mistake could wind up in your official record."

_"Yeah, yeah, I got it,"_ Murdoch muttered, sounding pained; he tended to forget that the "kid" was actually an officer, and thus higher-ranking than he was. _"She said to hurry,"_ he said to Kira, apparently unaware that the link to the Bridge was still open.

Kira Yamato's response was also audible. _"Well, it's not _that _easy,"_ he said defensively. _"This sonar unit is made by ZAFT; there are a few compatibility problems."_

Ken stepped to an intercom mic. "If you have any problems, Kira, let me know; I know a fair bit about engineering."

_"Thanks; but I think I can manage."_

"You know," Sophia murmured, "I keep forgetting that you used to be an engineer."

He shrugged. "Hard to remember, I guess; I've spent the last three years as a mobile suit pilot. But as a matter of fact, engineering was my first choice for a career."

His sister nodded sagely. "Yeah, I know what you mean; I started out in engineering, wound up in mobile armor squadrons, then went back to engineering for the G-weapon project." She smiled. "And now here I am, flying a mobile armor again. Crazy world, ain't it?"

"You have no idea."

Murrue glanced at the pair. "Either of you ever consider taking a vacation?"

She had the eerie feeling that another eye was staring at her through the eyepatch when Ken responded. "I don't have time for a vacation," he said quietly. "My work is too important."

The Captain sighed. "You now, Falcon, you said it yourself: there's only so long you can go without burning out. Just how long have _you_ been on alert?"

He closed his eye. "About seven months, give or take."

Sophia snorted. "Sounds to me, Brother, like Murrue has a point. Maybe you should at least take a turn about deck today, get some fresh air for a change." She smiled as a thought struck her. "Fresh air that doesn't have more sand in it than oxygen, I should say."

"And besides," Murrue pointed out, "you've been fighting a war for even longer than that, without so much as shore leave since your goodwill tour in Africa."

Ken sighed (she'd noticed he seemed more willing to express emotions these days), and looked up at the deckhead. "You may have a point," he admitted, and glanced at his watch. "As I seem to be off duty, I'll see you all later." Walking unhurriedly to the hatch, he paused before exiting; then turned, and announced, "Sic Vis Pacem, Para Bellum."

Then he was gone, and Murrue turned to Sophia. "Any idea what _that_ was about?"

The Victorian Kestrel closed her eyes. "He said, 'If you want peace, you must be prepared for war'," she said softly. "In case that means anything to you."

_Perhaps it does,_ Murrue thought, pondering the words. _Perhaps that's what set him on this long road to begin with..._

She began to wonder, then, if the roots of Ken DiFalco's apparent treason went farther back than any of them had ever considered.

* * *

Desert Dawn Camp, March 1st, C.E. 71 (two days previously)

* * *

The first twenty-four hours after the Battle of Talbadiya, the _Archangel_'s crew and the Desert Dawn guerrillas had been too tired to celebrate their victory; the battle had taken its toll even on the survivors. 

Now, though, on the night following that momentous day, they were in the mood for a little partying. Even the stone-faced Grimaldi Falcon had been seen to crack a millimeter-smile, though he seemed to find the amount of drinking going on distasteful.

_Probably,_ Kira thought to himself, amused, _he doesn't like anything that might "alter one's consciousness". Yeah, that's how he'd put it; and he'd scold people for deliberately impairing their own performance._ He shook his head. _To him, the world is one big equation, consisting of nothing but numbers and battle strategies._ Then he winced, remembering one reason that was probably so: he'd lost his parents -adopted though they may have been- when his own former comrades destroyed Heliopolis.

That incident had thrust the ace back into the war he'd tried desperately to leave behind. It had forced him to slay his own comrades, to make plans that, if they failed, might bring about their downfall, instead of merely humbling them, and forcing both sides to the negotiating table.

_He wants to be in this war even less than _I _do,_ Kira realized. _For me, the only part that makes it hard to fight is Athrun; for him, it's everyone he's ever known. What does it feel like, to know that your sworn comrades are now your sworn enemies?_

He didn't want to find out. And with any luck, he wouldn't have to.

Inside the War Room, the officers stood at the big table with Sahib Ashman. "To a new desert dawn," he said, lifting a glass.

"To a victorious future," Murrue agreed, raising one of her own.

"I'll drink to that," Mu and Sophia said simultaneously, before giving each other startled looks and bursting into laughter.

_Those two are so alike it's scary,_ Falcon thought, examining his own glass. "To a world where not every waking moment is spent trying to blow someone else to pieces."

Murrue, about to take a sip, glanced at him, eyebrow raised. "Aren't you a little young for this, Falcon?" she asked.

Sophia snorted. "Don't worry about him," she advised. "First of all, he's a Coordinator; by their standards, he's about as adult as you can get. Second... according to Metzinger's notes, he's designed to be incapable of getting drunk."

"The man was apparently obsessed with efficiency," Ken remarked. "To a time when I don't have to slice madmen into sashimi," he said, and downed his glass with seeming gusto.

His sister shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever quite make sense of you, Falcon."

He gazed at her, one eye visible, the other, with the silver tracery, hidden behind an eyepatch. "That's the idea," he said quietly, setting aside the glass. "Sahib," he said, turning to the resistance leader, "you know your war isn't over. You've defeated the Desert Tiger, but that won't stop them. They'll just regroup, and come after you again."

Sahib shrugged indifferently. "We knew that from the start, Commander. ZAFT is persistent, yes; but as you said, they'll need time to regroup. In the meantime, we have a small respite, and time to build up our own resources. If they come after us again, we'll fight them again." He touched the pistol he wore at his belt. "We will fight, to our last man."

Mu noticed something flicker in his younger brother's eye. _Probably thinking of Endymion,_ he thought. _Or maybe the Bloody Valentine. The kid's been through a lot._

"You may _have_ to fight to the last man," he pointed out quietly. "We won't be around to help the next time war comes to you."

Ashman met his gaze levelly. "I'm aware of that, Commander La Flaga. But we all do what we must, don't we? You've done your part here, and believe me, we're grateful." He looked up at the cave ceiling, as though looking at the stars beyond. "But now it's time for you to resume your journey; that's more important than you aiding us here."

Natarle looked at him, eyes narrow. "You think the _Archangel_ is really that important?"

The guerrilla cocked an eyebrow, nodding over at the ex-ZAFT pilot. _"He_ thinks so; and I'm not inclined to bet against the mastermind beyond the abortive Operation Guillotine."

Ken tilted his head. "You knew about that?"

Sahib laughed. "People talk, Commander; you and Captain Ramius were hardly alone on the Bridge when you mentioned it."

The ace looked -almost- rueful. "Tolle," he muttered. "No, more likely Kuzzey; Tolle's mouth isn't big enough." He shrugged. "Well, done is done; it hardly matters anymore."

One of the children from Tassil ran in about then. "Father!" he shouted, breathing heavily from the run. "The Elder wants us to gather and honor our fallen warriors."

The five officers and the resistance leader exchanged glances, and moved quietly out into the desert night.

* * *

As the Tassil Elder spoke the Roll of the Dead, Ken DiFalco stood upon one of the hills, looking down at the ceremony. As always, he remained apart. 

_This place... is not where I belong,_ he thought. _Their sacrifices were great and noble... but it is not my place to join them. Not tonight... not with my mission yet incomplete._

"Hey, Falcon," a voice said quietly from behind him. "What are you doing up here, alone?"

The ace turned to see Kira approaching him, Flay on his arm; the latter didn't appear terribly pleased to see him, but that didn't come as a surprise.

Ken was silent for long moments, but finally spoke quietly. "This isn't my ceremony," he murmured. "I don't belong here, Kira; it's not my place to join in."

Kira reached out and gripped his mentor's shoulder. "Falcon, _they_ may not be your people... but we are. You're one of us, one of the _Archangel_'s crew. You're not doing everything on your own now. You have a place here, with us. Besides, wasn't it you that got _me_ to stay with the ship in the first place?"

The pilot thought about that. "I guess you have a point, Kira," he admitted. "Let's go." Without waiting for a reply, he started down the hill toward the small cluster of _Archangel_ officers. "Let us celebrate while we can," he added over his shoulder. "Tonight we enjoy our victory; tomorrow we resume our long journey to our destiny."

_Just what does he mean by _that? Kira wondered.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Upper Deck Atop Starboard Gottfried, March 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

A number of mechanics and other enlisted personnel, as well as three students-turned-Bridge-crewmen, now occupied a deck whose only purpose in the blackness of space was to serve as a cover for the enormous Gottfried beam cannons. In atmosphere, however, it served admirably for getting fresh air. 

"Wow!" Tolle exclaimed, running over to the railing. "It's great to be on the water!"

There were sounds of agreement from most of those present; a noticeable exception was Kuzzey. Miriallia Haw, on the other hand, was feeling better than she had in weeks. "This feels wonderful," she sighed happily, leaning against railing. "Blue sky, open water, and no sand in the air."

"I guess it's okay," Kuzzey said dubiously. "But I'm feeling a little dizzy; and I've never seen this much water in one place before."

Tolle nodded in comprehension. "That's right, I forgot; you were born in Heliopolis itself, weren't you?"

"Yeah; I thought the desert was bad, but this is a lot worse." Kuzzey shuddered. "It gets really deep in some places, doesn't it?"

Mir glanced at him sidelong. _Why not?_ she thought. "Yeah," she agreed, "and there're monsters down there, too."

The always-jumpy crewman paled, and Tolle shook his head. "Oh, stop teasing him, Mir. Listen, Kuzzey, the only monsters down there are the ones ZAFT put there; mobile suits. No sea monsters or anything."

That calmed him; slightly. "You're sure?"

"Yep." And Tolle went back to watching the water go by, enjoying this rare respite from tension, planning and combat.

Mir did the same; but as she did so, she noticed the hatch leading to the other Gottfried's upper deck open, and a familiar trench-coated figure climb up. As always, he was alone.

_There's always something setting him apart,_ she thought, watching him. _He's one of us, yet he keeps to himself; but why? Just what did he do that torments him like this? Why does he insist on doing everything himself, and why is he convinced the price of failure is the death of the human race?_

She didn't know. She wasn't sure if _anyone_ truly knew, besides the ace himself... and perhaps Patrick Zala.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Upper Deck Atop Port Gottfried

* * *

The brown-haired, eyepatch-wearing youth stepped off the last step into the sunlight, unaware of Mir's observation. He was more interested in having some time to think outside of metal bulkheads. 

_Commander Kenneth DiFalco,_ he thought to himself. _Identification number six-one-eight-five-zero-two. Last assigned as Commander, DiFalco team; temporary attached duty, ZAFT Special Forces, Special Engineering Unit. Highest kill score of any ZAFT pilot, youngest recipient of the Order of the Nebula, architect of some of ZAFT's most ambitious -and successful- plans. And also the world's most colossal idiot, and possibly the man responsible for humanity's demise._ He snorted to himself. _Brilliant. Sure you are. Also dedicated to making sure you kill no more of your comrades than strictly necessary, going out of your way to disable rather than destroy. Yet the machine your loyal minions are even now building has been designed -by you- for the express purpose of annihilating anything that gets in its way as rapidly and efficiently as possible. Some hero._

Ken snorted at himself, and decided now wasn't the time for such thoughts. He'd come out here to _relax,_ after all, and railing at himself for his failures wouldn't exactly help him do that.

Sighing, he unfastened his trench coat, letting it drop to the deck, then pulled off his eyepatch. _Nobody around to see anyway,_ he reasoned, stuffing it in a pocket. _Though I'd better not look toward the east._ The thought of direct sunlight entering his unprotected, infrared-sensitive left eye was not in the least pleasant.

Rubbing the diagonal scar left over from the injury most people believed had cost him the eye, Ken wondered where Victor Tempest was now. The younger man was clearly losing his mind; that had been obvious from the time he'd attacked his own commander, at the Eyrie. Now, though, it seemed he also had a death wish... literally.

_"Kill me, Falcon! Just kill me and be done with it!"_ And later, _"Falcon! Finish the job, you coward!"_

Ken didn't know what was going through his former student's head; but it was becoming increasingly clear the man was a menace. "You keep popping up, Victor," he murmured. "Why can't you just leave us alone? If you want to die that badly, go fight someone who cares... like the Alaska base."

He wondered what Huckebein would be flying the next time they met; even if his LaGOWE was salvageable, it wouldn't be much good in most situations. For example, if he attacked them out here, it would be utterly useless... _Probably something flight-capable,_ he thought. _Submarine mobile suits can't do much against the _Archangel, _especially if she takes off; and he has to know I'd tear him apart in that sort of situation._ Then he snorted. _Of course, that's what he _wants _me to do, so maybe I can't rule that out after all. Still... some variant of GINN or DINN is more likely._

Unfortunately, it was likely to be something Ken wasn't familiar with; Huckebein's mission was apparently important enough that he was getting a lot of prototype machines to test out. First the CGUE DEEP Arms, then the LaGOWE... what might be next?

_Just a few more weeks,_ he thought. _Just a few more weeks, and I don't _care _what they send after us. Preybird will be enough to counter anything in ZAFT's inventory, including the Freedom and Justice._ Before they left the desert, Ken had gotten an anonymous transmission directly to his pocket computer; it was a report from his team, which had been relayed from some location on Earth itself.

He wasn't sure exactly how it had arrived -though the underlying computer code suggested to him that it had come from the wreck of the _Lesseps-_ but it had provided him with some useful information, such as a report informing him that the careful technology leaks had gotten exactly the intended result. _But Those two machines still aren't a match for Preybird. Nothing is... except _that.

That was the one part of the report Ken had found genuinely frightening. In a private video message contained within the transmission, Sparky had stated in a cold, tense voice that the NJC project had finally yielded results. On the one hand, that meant Preybird would be completed on schedule. On the other...

_We have six months,_ he thought, making an estimate based on where it had been when he left. _Six months, before GENESIS is born and destroys us all. Six months... to save a world from destruction._

It was a crushing burden. Six months till Judgment Day... Would he succeed in time? _Could_ he succeed at all? Only the relatively generous time factor kept Ken from outright despair. He still had time; if only because he knew Zala would integrate as many new technologies as possible, thus slowing down construction schedules.

"In six months," he whispered, "I'll be ready. In six months, the Shiva Option is unleashed, and come what may, only one will survive. Then it ends... and whatever happens, I'll make sure Patrick isn't around to see it."

He made that as a solemn pledge, to the men and women who had fought and died with him, _for_ him, all for the goal the Patrick Zala now threatened. No matter what happened, even if Patrick was victorious he wouldn't be around to see it. _I didn't die at Endymion just to watch everything we've worked for be blown away by one vengeance-crazed lunatic. And _that, _Patrick, is _exactly _what you've become. I'm sorry about Lenore, but this is not the way._

Light footsteps behind him jolted him out of his thoughts. "I hope I'm not intruding, Falcon," Murrue said softly, stepping onto the upper deck.

Ken shook his head. "No, that's okay, Murrue. I... I was just thinking, that's all." He gazed out at the sea. "But too much time to think often leads me to brooding, which really isn't conducive to _clear_ thinking."

She stepped up to the railing to his left. "I can see that." Glancing over at his left profile, she paused. "You're not wearing your eyepatch?"

He hesitated. _Oh, to blazes with it._ "That's right," he acknowledged, turning toward her. "Because I didn't lose the eye."

Murrue blinked in surprise, seeing the bright, silver tracery that glowed even in the midday light. "What in the world...?"

"Sophia neglected to mention that particular genetic modification," Ken said dryly, "probably because _she_ thinks I lost the eye, too. But actually, while the scar _is_ from the incident people think, it's not why I wear they eyepatch." The faintest trace of an ironic smile touched his lips. "I wear it because, when I was sixteen, this pattern began to form in the eye. At first, I took to wearing sunglasses, simply because the effect disturbed people. But soon, the eye's function began to change; I could see into the infrared and ultraviolet ranges. Now, imagine what that must be like, when the effect manifests itself in the middle of a desert."

She winced, thinking of how much the reflected thermal energy must have hurt. "I had no idea."

"You weren't supposed to." He turned back to the sea. "I am an arrogant man, Murrue; I won't deny that. I have also long been in that habit of concealing my strengths, a habit which served me well in the realm of military tactics and strategy. The ability to see beyond what most people can is very useful at times; I have little use for nightvision equipment, for example, particularly since I'm ambidextrous. More importantly, when people think I have only one eye, they assume that I have a blind side; and that my depth perception is practically nil."

"I did wonder how you piloted a mobile suit so well with such a handicap," Murrue admitted. "I guess I just assumed your cockpit displays were set up in such a way to compensate for that."

Ken shook his head. "You should have taken a closer look at Raptor's systems. Aside from the fact that I have little use for the targeting computer as long as I can see -like Mu, I have very good situational awareness- it's set up nearly the same as Kira's Strike." He frowned. "A remarkable young man, Kira; his ability is almost beyond belief. He took to a mobile suit even faster than I did, and if he's not up to my level yet, he's approaching it rapidly."

"Hm." The Captain leaned against the railing for a time, silent. "So," she said after a while, "just what brought you out here, anyway? Needed someplace peaceful to brood?"

"Actually," he admitted, "I was hoping to relax; but thoughts of other matters kept intruding."

"Like what?"

Ken shrugged. "Past. Present. Future." He said nothing more for several minutes; then, abruptly, "Patrick Zala is a madman, you know. Completely out of his mind."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

"I was his right-hand man, Murrue. Believe me, I got to know the guy well enough to gauge his mental state." He fingered the Order of the Nebula that still hung around his neck. "It was the Bloody Valentine that did it; his wife Lenore died there, that day."

"Did you know her?" She was curious; she hadn't heard him talk this much about his time with ZAFT the whole time he'd been with the ship. He didn't seem to be the type to tell war stories, except for exchanging the odd tale with fellow pilots like Mu. People who would understand exactly what he'd been through.

"Yes," Ken said, in answer to her question. "Not well; she died when I was still just an average elite pilot." The apparent contradiction in those words didn't seem to bother him. "But I met her a couple of times, during various functions." The slightest suggestion of a grimace. "I'm not a big fan of parties, but I was getting enough attention that I hadn't much choice but to attend. This was around the time of the blockade, when I first flew in combat and began to make a name for myself."

"Which was also what brought you to Zala's attention," Murrue guessed.

"Exactly. I had a reputation for having a cool head in a crisis, and my then-commander swore by my battle tactics. It wasn't long before I was doing most of the planning for the team; which is probably one reason I got one of my own so early."

"And you were on the same team as Rau Le Creuset?" His reaction surprised her.

There was no disguising the loathing in his expression or his voice. "Yes, we were on the same team; before that bastard got to be Patrick's fair-haired boy and wound up being promoted above me. He's the bastard who sent my people out to die at Endymion." He trailed off into increasingly vehement cursing.

Murrue blinked at the tirade. "I don't understand. You had your own team; how could he have...?"

"He was in overall command of the battle," Ken said harshly. "He sent the Gray Demons to cover one sector of the battle area all by ourselves, with no support at all. At the time, I thought it was merely an expression of confidence in our ability to get the job done, but now I'm not so sure; as if it matters." His hands clenched into fists. "I went in there with twelve people," he grated, "and _five_ of us came out alive!"

Endymion had left its mark, she saw; that was more emotion than she'd ever seen from him, even the day he learned Victor Tempest was still alive. "Sounds like you left your heart at Endymion Crater," she said quietly, unsure of what else to say; to her surprise, it was apparently the right thing.

In point of fact, Ken was highly amused by the remark. _You're more right than you know, Murrue,_ he thought with an inner chuckle.

"Yes," he said aloud, more somberly. "You might say that. Endymion was nearly the end of the Gray Demons; the survivors flew only one more sortie before I was transferred out. We wreaked havoc during Operation Aquila, though."

"Operation Aquila?" Murrue frowned. "I'm not familiar with the codename."

"You'd never heard of Guillotine, either," he pointed out. "Of course, Guillotine never happened; but you have heard of Aquila because it was internal-use only. Not many operation codes were ever known to the Alliance." He looked up at the sky. "'Aquila' was actually something of a tongue-in-cheek reference. We were going after the resource satellite Nova, so what better name?" At her blank look, he explained, "Aquila is a region of space where a lot of supernovae were observed a couple of centuries ago; more than any other area on record. It seemed the sort of thing to name an operation with such a target."

"I guess so," Murrue agreed, absently looking at his scar. "By the way," she said suddenly, "how _did_ you get the scar?"

"This?" Ken ran his hand down the white mark. "This is from the time my student and friend tried to kill me." He went on to describe how it had gone, for he remembered it in vivid detail.

_Falcon was standing in his office at the Eyrie, back to the door, going over battle plans for the Gray Demons' next sortie. "Be conservative," he murmured. "Don't be too bold when you're shorthanded."_

_The hatch suddenly slid open. "Are these orders for real?" the black-haired young man, wearing a gray flight suit with a katana at his side, demanded. _"Please _tell me you're kidding!"_

_"No, Victor, I'm not," Falcon replied, turning. "Those orders are correct. You're leaving with the next supply shuttle."_

_"You can't _do _this to me!" Victor Tempest shouted. "We went through the Academy together, remember? We fought together at Yggdrasil and Jachin Due. I was one of your first picks when you formed this team! I-"_

_"Enough, Victor," the Commander said firmly. "You know as well as I do what happened out there yesterday. Your foolhardy, glory hound antics very nearly got me killed, and almost took the rest of the team down with us when they had to charge in to rescue us. _That_, Tempest, means you're off the team. You do _not _needlessly endanger your comrades; you did, and that makes you a liability in combat. That's all that matters."_

_"But we're _friends, _Falcon!" Tempest said desperately._

_"If I chose my men based on friendship, Tempest, Dearka Elsman would be in your slot," Falcon said coldly. "He, unlike you, knows how to follow orders, and he knows not to try to play the patronage game with me. And, also unlike you, he knows me from well before the Academy. No, Tempest, the fact that we're friends is irrelevant. What you seem to have forgotten is that our primary objective is the defense of the PLANTs, _not _the mindless killing of Naturals."_

_"They're the enemy," Tempest said stubbornly._

_"But not forever," his commander countered. "The goal is to defeat the enemy _without _wiping him out, Tempest; the idea is to win freedom and independence for the homeland, not conquer Earth and subjugate the Naturals."_

_"That's not what Representative Zala says," Victor challenged._

_"I don't care a wit what Patrick Zala thinks," Falcon said contemptuously. "The man may be the leader of ZAFT, but my ultimate allegiance is to the PLANTs themselves, not a pompous, genocidal loon like him." He turned away again. "You're off the team, Tempest. That's final."_

_"I don't think so, Boss," Tempest said menacingly. "I think you've lost the right to lead this team. I think someone with a more proper attitude should be in charge. I think..." Steel rasped against wood. "I think that someone should be me."_

_Falcon never saw the blade coming for his back, but his reflexes sensed it, and his own blade came out, even as he turned._

_His blade caught Tempest's, forcing him back a step. "Just what do you think you're doing, Victor?" he demanded._

_"Taking over," Tempest answered, bringing his katana forward again, narrowly missing his commander's face. "You are not the right man for the job, Commander. Not anymore."_

_"Don't be a fool, Victor! Even if you win, you know the penalty for assaulting a superior officer!"_

_Tempest's blade came around again, biting into Falcon's flesh, arcing diagonally across his left eye, and the commander dropped back a pace, hand instinctively going to cover the wound. Tempest pressed the attack, but Falcon forced his muscles to obey; his left hand returned to the katana's hilt, and he parried the stroke._

_"Now you leave me no choice, Victor," he hissed, using all his mental discipline to block the pain from his wounded face. "You'll die for this."_

_"I don't think so, Falcon." Tempest spun, using the rotation of his body to add power to his next strike; it was, however, his undoing, and nearly his death. His commander ducked to the side, and before he could recover, Falcon swept his blade up, cutting across Tempest's right eye, and dropping down to cut off the last two fingers of his left hand..._

_Victor let out a scream as his fingers fell away. "You bastard!" he shrieked. "You'll die for that!"_

_"You brought it on yourself, Victor," Falcon said coldly; he, too, was in considerable pain, and his left eye was blinded by the blood pouring over it. "Suffer a traitor's death; our friendship is no more."_

_Tempest's lips curled in a snarl of hate, and his blade came around, clutched in his remaining fingers. With all his strength, he brought the katana down in a diagonal slice..._

_Falcon parried the blow with absurd ease, and his own blade shot forward, plunging deep in his onetime student's chest..._

When at last the ace pilot finished his calm enumeration of events, Murrue turned back to the sea, frowning. "So that's how it was," she said at last. "I'd wondered. But then how can he be alive?"

Ken shrugged. "I presume they replaced his heart somehow, after I killed him; but how he managed to retain brain function for that long, I do not know." He interlaced his fingers as they rested on the railing. "More importantly... why? Victor attempted to kill his commanding officer; and believe me, in ZAFT you'll get executed for committing lesser crimes than _that._ And even if he hadn't, I _still_ wouldn't understand it. According to Andy Waltfeld, Kyle Kreitzman is about the only person in ZAFT who can stand him at all at this point."

She thought about that. "I'd say that he was brought back specifically to go after _you,_ but I guess that idea doesn't work, does it? By the time you'd defected, he would've been _long_ dead."

"Yeah. Unless..." His eyes narrowed. "Wait a second."

Murrue tilted her head. "What is it?"

"I seem to remember something..." Ken frowned, concentrating, and then nodded to himself. "Of course. They'd just perfected cryogenics about then; he must have been frozen, then thawed and repaired months later..."

"But according to Commander La Flaga, Huckebein had been active for months before you even came aboard," she protested.

"I know that. They must have been sufficiently concerned by something -the possibility of my turning certain data over to the Earth Forces, or a myriad of other possibilities- that they brought him out right when they realized I was AWOL for good."

Murrue was silent once again. "Falcon," she said finally, "just what is it that you know that would make ZAFT so desperate to remove you from the situation? How did you come to be so highly-placed in ZAFT to begin with? A seventeen-year-old, Coordinator or no, doesn't get that high without either patronage or something extremely valuable to his superiors; and despite your friendship with the son of Tad Elsman, I doubt it was patronage."

It was Ken's turn to remain silent. _How much do I tell her?_ he wondered. _How much can I? Some things... are better left unsaid. Some burdens... no one else should bear. She has no idea how valuable this ship is, in the grand scheme of things; no idea what is truly happening behind the scenes._

The Grimaldi Falcon knew a great deal about the war that Murrue Ramius did not. Some of it he intended to reveal... but not yet. If introduced at the proper time, it could swing _Archangel_ over to the side of what he expected would eventually become the war's third faction. Things about who was _really_ controlling the Earth Alliance, behind the scenes...

_LOGOS,_ Ken thought. _Them, and Blue Cosmos. If only I knew more... but I know enough. Armed with that knowledge, _Archangel _could become the centerpiece of the Shiva Option, along with _Asmodeus_, once the _real _war begins. With Lord Uzumi's aid -_if _he's willing to follow through with what we discussed- we could make this longshot into a reality._

_But for that to happen, I have to tell her _something _now._

"Let me put it to you this way," Ken said, after long moments of thought. "If you were Patrick Zala, and you were seeking a way to end the war with as much damage to the opposing side as possible -preferably total genocide- who would you look for to plan it for you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You'd look over your forces's ranks, searching for the most brilliant strategist you could find; and if he happened to be a superb tactician, as well, that would be just a bonus. When you add in the fame -and, on the part of the Earth Forces- infamy, that individual gained as commander of an elite unit, are you going to care how old he is?" He shook his head. "Murrue, Patrick's sole goal in life now is to wipe out all Naturals, in revenge for Junius Seven. When he picked me out of the crowd, he didn't see a teenager. He saw the one man who might make his crazy dream a reality."

Murrue gazed at him for awhile. "You were considered _that_ brilliant?"

"Yes; and," he pointed out dryly, "with a certain justification. Even my one _failed_ plan turned into a brilliant success, remember. Unfortunately," he added, looking a little grim, "I wasn't quite brilliant _enough._ If I had been, I never would have helped him along."

She slowly nodded. "And that's how you came to wield such influence in ZAFT."

"Yes. That, and... one other thing." That "one other thing" being something Ken chose not to discuss; the time had not come for such revelations. "And that," he said with a certain finality, "is also why I'm _here,_ on the so-called 'legged ship', instead of back in PLANTs, figuring out how to destroy you. Or, perhaps more likely, in charge of the team hunting you."

The Captain raised an eyebrow. "You think Zala would have let you come here to personally 'lead the charge'?"

"Oh, yes," he affirmed. "By now, my plan would require little oversight from me; effectively self-sustaining, you might say. In fact, that's kind of the problem. It reached that point before I realized what was really going on." He shrugged. "Oops."

Murrue smiled, seeing that, at the very least, she'd managed to lift his mood a little. "Well," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "just between you and me, I much prefer having you here, instead of the alternative."

"Do you know," Ken said softly, looking out to sea, "I think I do, too."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Aft Deck

* * *

Kira Yamato stepped through the hatch into the bright sunlight, uniform tunic already removed and slung over his shoulder. Shielding his eyes against the sun -the ship _was_ traveling _east,_ after all- he walked toward the railing, and sat on the deck. 

Like his friend and mentor Falcon, he'd come out here seeking peace; peace he knew he wouldn't find within the confines of the ship. Flay, much as he cared for her, could get a little... suffocating, at times, the way she clung to him. He hadn't been on good terms with Sai for weeks; and none of the others would understand.

_Except maybe Falcon,_ he thought wearily. _But he has his own burdens; I won't add to it. Besides... even he has an easier time with all this fighting..._

To think, when it had all begun, he'd just been another college student, studying at a technical college at a neutral space colony. Then, in less than twenty-four hours, it had all come apart. He'd been forced to pilot a mobile suit to save his own life, and those of his friends; Heliopolis itself had been destroyed... and he'd been forced to face his best friend, Athrun Zala, across the sights of a beam rifle.

Kira had thought he was going to leave all that behind, when the _Archangel_ reached Earth, but then his friends had all volunteered to join the Earth Forces, and he'd felt obligated to continue to protect them; and make up for failing to save Flay's father.

For a time after that, he'd found no trouble in fighting; with the certainty -carefully reinforced by Flay- that he was doing the right thing, he'd torn through enemy mobile suits with no thought for the consequence. They _were_ the enemy, and that was all that mattered; they chose to face him in battle, so if they died, it was their own problem.

Then Kira had met Andrew "Desert Tiger" Waltfeld, and he was thrown into inner turmoil once again.

_"There are no clear rules for ending a war like this. So how do you determine the winners and the losers? At what point do you put an end to it? When every single one of your enemies has been eliminated?"_

_"And with the revelation and proliferation of Coordinators, it sowed the seeds of chaos. Glenn, I think, didn't quite understand human nature. He was too much of an idealist to remember that humanity inevitably seizes upon differences as a reason to kill each other."_

Was it all because of Coordinators existing? Was George Glenn's revelation truly the root of the conflict? Without Naturals, there would be no Coordinators; the very people bent on exterminating those born through genetic engineering had created them in the first place.

_Now... they just want to wipe us out,_ Kira thought bitterly. _They created us; and now that they've decided they don't like their creations they want to throw us away!_ And to think he was fighting for those very same people...

_No,_ he corrected himself. _Not for _them. _For my friends; for the _Archangel. _I don't care about the rest of them; as long as this ship survives, I'll be protecting the people I should be, the people who understand that Coordinators are just as human as they are._

None of that helped with his central difficulty, though. He just... he just didn't want to have kill anyone else; but as long as he was in a war, he knew he had little choice.

_It just isn't fair!_ But the universe didn't care about fairness, he thought, his vision blurring. The universe itself didn't care about one young man's problems...

Behind him, the hatch slid open again, and Cagalli Yula stepped onto the aft deck. She paused for a moment, seeing who was already there. "Hi, Kira," she greeted with a smile, resuming her movement. "I see you needed a little fresh air, too."

To her bemusement, Kira stood, looking as though he were about to leave. _What's with him?_ Cagalli wondered, walking to his side. "Kira," she said softly, "you look like you've been crying..."

He didn't reply. He didn't much feel like talking to _anyone,_ so he turned to leave, still averting his gaze. _Sorry. But now isn't..._

"Wait," she insisted, and grabbed his arm. The Coordinator's bleak expression surprised her, but she didn't let go. "Kira, what's wrong?"

There were any number of things Kira might have said; but he said none of them. He didn't feel like talking, and he didn't expect her to understand anyway, so-

His eyes went wide with surprise when Cagalli suddenly pulled him close in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, Kira," she whispered against his shoulder. "It's all right. Don't worry; everything's going to be just fine."

For some reason, something Kira wouldn't have believed from anyone else he accepted from _her_ without question. His tense muscles finally began to relax, as her soft voice soothed the turmoil in his mind.

After a couple of minutes, she released him and stepped back. "Feeling better?"

He nodded, managing a shy smile. "Yeah... Thanks." The young pilot _was_ feeling better, in fact; better than he had in quite a while. "So," he said, moving over to the railing, "what brings you out here?"

"Fresh air," Cagalli replied, joining him. "For the last few weeks, it's been either dusty air, or recycled air; the sea breeze is kind of refreshing."

Kira nodded. "I know. Even Heliopolis was better than the desert; at least the environment was designed to be _comfortable."_

"I don't think anybody _designed_ the desert," she said dryly. "But you're right about Heliopolis; or at least you were, before it was destroyed." She glanced at him. "What _did_ happen, in the end?"

He thought back. "It was ZAFT missiles; meant for destroying hardened bases. At least, that's what Falcon and Commander La Flaga say. Anyway, Falcon managed to destroy both machines carrying them before they could fire, but he didn't destroy the missiles themselves. Some kind of malfunction triggered them after the pilots were already dead, and..."

Cagalli nodded. "That explains that." She fell silent for several moments. "You know... you're a pretty strange guy."

Kira blinked at the apparent non sequitur. "Huh?"

"Like that time in the desert, when you freaked out and then slapped me," she explained. "Remember?"

He did, and blushed. "Sorry about that."

She touched his hand, shaking her head. "Hey, I deserved it, okay? You were right. But what I'm wondering is... why are you fighting for the Earth Forces if you're a Coordinator?"

Kira leaned against the rail, staring out to sea. "I guess it _does_ sound strange," he admitted. "I get that a lot." In fact, he got it from just about everybody he met; the only exception was Falcon, and him because he was in exactly the same boat. "It's... complicated."

"I'm sure it is. But the point is, there's a war going on because Naturals and Coordinators are determined to wipe each other out, no matter what the cost." Cagalli looked at his thoughtful face. "I mean, don't _you_ have strong feelings about that?"

He turned to look at her. "What about _you?_ What do _you_ think about it?"

"It doesn't matter to me _what_ your genes look like," she told him. "My feelings toward someone aren't determined by their DNA."

Kira smiled. "Same here." His elbows on the railing, he rested his chin on his hands. "That's why I'm here, really. Because I have Natural friends on this ship, friends who've been with me a long time. And the crew, too; they're not like the rest of the Earth Forces."

Cagalli nodded. "I can understand that. But it must be hard for you, fighting against your own people."

"The way Falcon has it," he said slowly, "is that my 'people' are those on this ship; my friends, those I can trust."

"He's right."

"But you know... there's no difference between Coordinators, and everyone else." Kira looked up at the bright, blue sky. "Not really."

She frowned. "But you guys have faster reflexes, greater strength, greater mental capacity..."

"Not right from birth," he told her. "We have much greater _potential,_ but _all_ it is is potential. Without proper training, we're no better than Naturals. We have to practice and study to reach full potential, just like you; we're not supermen. Our genes govern our _potential_ strengths... but there's more to life than just DNA. It's true," he admitted, "that we don't catch deadly diseases, and that our genes were altered before birth to increase our potential... but I thought everyone aspired to that, even Naturals." He shrugged. "That's why we exist, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." Cagalli nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. I guess this war is just about envy, isn't it? Envy and fear of Coordinator abilities."

"Human nature, I guess." Silence reigned for several minutes after that, but a pleasant one.

Meanwhile, just beyond the hatch, Flay Allster had taken note of what was going on, after searching for Kira for nearly an hour. _That's that girl from the desert!_ she thought, furious. _Just what does she think she's doing? She has no right..._

Arranging herself carefully, for the best effect, the redhead walked toward the hatch... just as Ken DiFalco came around a corner behind her.

His eyes took in the pair beyond the hatch, and girl heading over to interrupt them, and he smiled to himself. _Not this time, Flay. It's time I did something to weaken your hold over Kira; indirectly, at least._ He wanted to let the two have their talk in peace... so he pulled out his pocket computer.

In his spare time, the ace had uploaded several interesting backdoor programs into _Archangel_'s software, at first out of boredom, and later suspicion of Flay. Now he chose to activate one that linked hatch controls to the surveillance systems.

Just as Flay reached the hatch, the security cameras noticed her approach, identified her, and relayed the data to the hatch controls. It slid firmly shut while she was in mid-step, causing her to bounce painfully off of it.

By the time Flay climbed back to her feet with a yelp, wondering what had just happened, the brown-haired youth in the trench coat had already slipped quietly away.

On the deck, Kira finally broke the silence. "I was kind of surprised when you came with the _Archangel,_ when we left the desert," he remarked. "I figured you'd be staying behind, after the victory."

Cagalli shrugged. "It's not like I'm actually from there, you know; there wasn't really any reason for me to stay, after we took out Waltfeld. _Archangel_ was the fastest way out of there, and besides... I kinda like you guys."

He wasn't sure how to take that, so he turned to another matter. "How'd you do it, though? Lieutenant Badgiruel must not have been happy about taking on a couple more civilians."

She smiled slyly. "Well, you know what they say: it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission." The blonde girl chuckled to herself. "My father certainly knows it; he's so used to it he just makes sure I have Kisaka with me, and usually doesn't even _try_ to interfere."

Kira looked at her oddly. "Your father?" he asked carefully.

Cagalli's smile froze, and she fell silent, thinking. _Oops. I think I just said more than I should have... Oh, forget it. Kisaka won't be happy _-if _he finds out- but I can trust Kira. He won't tell anyone._

"My full name," she said at last, "is Cagalli Yula Athha." She met his startled gaze. "My father is Chief Representative Uzumi Nara Athha. And I'd really appreciate it if you _not_ tell Kisaka I told you that."

Kira was literally shocked speechless. _She's- she's..._ He hadn't been that stunned since learning that Athrun had joined ZAFT and was part of the attack on Heliopolis. "You're..." He cleared his throat. "You're the princess of Orb?"

"Don't call me that," Cagalli snapped. "You have no idea how much I _hate_ being called a princess; that's one reason I take off as much as I can." She gave him a hard stare. "I'm your _friend,_ Kira, not royalty, got it? If I ever catch you treating me like a princess, I'll..."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I won't. I promise."

She glared at him a moment longer for effect, then relented with a smile. "That's better." Much more relaxed now herself, she leaned against the railing, unconsciously moving a few centimeters closer to her companion. "You know, it feels nice to be able to relax around _somebody_ here; besides Kisaka, I mean. Nice not to have to hide who I am."

"Yeah..." Kira looked back out to sea. _Maybe... she _would _understand..._

Cagalli noticed him begin to brood again. "What is it, Kira?"

It didn't take him long to decide to answer; she'd already demonstrated that she _could_ understand, that she _did_ care. "You know the Aegis?" he said finally.

She frowned. "One of the Earth Forces mobile suits ZAFT captured? What about it?"

"The pilot is..." Kira turned to her. "His name is Athrun, Athrun Zala... and he's my best friend."

Cagalli nodded in comprehension, surprised, but not as much as she might be. "Just like Falcon and the Buster's pilot, huh? But... how would you know him?"

"We went to school together, in Copernicus," he told her. "We attended the same prep school, starting about ten years ago. We were the best of friends... but his father called him back to the PLANTs in 68, and my family moved to Heliopolis, so we were forced to part. We didn't see each other again until Heliopolis..."

"During the attack," she finished for him. "And you've been fighting him ever since, right?"

"Yeah..." Kira swallowed. "With Falcon and his friend, it's probably easier; they use their duty to shield themselves from it. But Athrun and me... I never expected him to join ZAFT, and neither of us expected me to end up with the Earth Forces. I..." His fists clenched. "I hate it!"

Cagalli placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kira."

He forced himself to relax. "Thanks," he said, shaking himself. "It's... something I'm getting used to, I guess. But it still hurts."

"You wouldn't be human if it didn't."

Kira raised an eyebrow. "What about Falcon?"

She snorted. "Did anybody ever say he was human? Besides, he's the same as any of us, the same as you; and how _he_ deals with it has nothing to do with you, anyway."

"Yeah... you're right." Calm once more, he smiled, and turned back to watch the sea go by.

The alarms would soon be going off again, but for now, there were a few precious moments of peace.

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has entered a time of peace, and more details of Ken DiFalco's plot have begun to emerge. Meanwhile, enemy forces gather for another attack… 

Okay, I know this chapter was fast; and I also know it might not have been the most interesting. _I_ enjoyed it, but I've given up on trying to anticipate reader reaction…

Infinite Freedom, let's just say you're on the right track with Hyperion; beyond that, I will not say.

Actually, the reason for the orbital powersats is mostly that I see no possible way for even the devious Gray Demons to build a power station on the Moon when its entire surface is under the control of the Earth Forces; the fact that the satellite cannon could not otherwise be used in daylight didn't occur to me till later.

No, the Strike won't be getting the Death Blossoms; I imagine you'll be surprised by what _is._ But yes, the Strike will be getting additional weaponry.

NukeDawg, I doubt the Dreadnought will be appearing; I know considerably less about that than I do about the Hyperion, and there would also be little point, given that Canard Pars won't be the Hyperion pilot who turns up in this story.

'Fraid I can't think of anything Iron Wall might fly; I'll let you know if something occurs me, though, I'll let you know.

Ominae, I think Sophia's encounters with Dearka won't be expounded until he joins the ship; but rest assured, it will be (if nothing else, he and Falcon will be having _quite_ the discussion after he arrives).

Ninofchaos, I'm glad you liked it; I'll be watching for your next chapter, by the way.

Antilles, Falcon was kind of intended to be a level head in a crisis; though I'm planning an incident much later in which he _completely_ loses control. The past will come back to haunt…

Yeah, Falcon has a couple of problems to deal with at once; one will be dealt with in about ten chapters, the other… Well, Victor Tempest will be around for awhile. His death will be an important plot point.

Rau Le Creuset 88, thanks for the information; I'm not sure if the PX system will be present in Preybird, but Kevin Walker's next machine is a distinct possibility. (The one _after_ the rebuilt Stormhawk, I should say; Stormhawk will be destroyed relatively early… and very spectacularly.)

Blue Moon Wolf, while I do appreciate construction criticism, simply knowing that people approve of it is quite satisfying enough. I trust the rest of the story will not disappoint.

Depressed suicidal writer, I'm glad you liked the chapter; and the information is much appreciated. But were you attempting to say something else there? The review looks slightly… incomplete.

Centurious, Victor Tempest's complex tale will be told over quite a long time; and the whole truth will have to wait until the proper moment, which is not for some time yet. And yes, his mental problems _are_ the reason he can't tell Falcon about the mental problems. Not exactly a split personality, though; more that whenever he encounters Falcon, his mental stability rapidly deteriorates beyond him being able to retain full -sane- control of his own body.

ZGMF X-19A Infinite Justice, glad to see you're still enjoying it; though to be honest, I'm not sure what you might have thought of this latest chapter.

Lipana, I'm actually quite content to wait for Destiny to arrive here, now that I at least know it's coming; in fact, I welcome the delay. Admittedly, I'm greatly looking forward to getting started on A Call to Arms, but this will give me time to plan it in very great detail. I already have a highly complex subplot in the works, which ties in with Kevin Walker's special forces past…

Warp Ligia Obscura, the full explanation for the artificial muscle tissue actuators has not yet been rendered, but you're essentially correct (except in one particular: the Berserker state is the _primary_ reason Raptor has stress facture problems, but with his flying it inevitably occurs anyway). Basically, what it does is allow the mobile suit to move as an organic body would (when used in conjunction with another of Preybird's special features, that is); it's a concept I got from Metal Gear Solid 2, specifically from the Metal Gear RAY.

Yes, the Gerbera Straight is exactly what I meant; given Falcon's expertise with a katana, it seemed the appropriate weapon.

The orbiting satellites are there _partly_ so that the satellite cannon can be used in the daytime; but the primary reason is because I just don't see how a power station could be built on the Moon right under the noses of the Earth Forces, who own the entire piece of bloody real estate. Just because they can be used in daylight, though, doesn't mean they can be used in _all_ conditions; a good rainstorm or even cloud cover would prevent Preybird from contacting any of the powersats. The reason? Lasers are easily attenuated, so laser lock under those conditions would be highly unlikely. Then, of course, there's the fact that a weapon that powerful would cause a _lot_ friendly-fire problems…

No, Freedom and Justice will be the only other units which the Gray Demons have any influence over; I don't know much of anything about Testament, but the others are all too new for Falcon's people to have been involved. Thus, I remain true to canon (slightly, at least, given the major twists I've introduced, and will continue to introduce for the rest of the story).

Okay, I may as well say it; pretty obvious anyway. Yes, Sophia will be getting the Hyperion, but it won't be till the Gray Demons join up with the rest of the group, and that won't be till much later. As for the Gunbarrel Striker… I'll simply say that I've been thinking about it.

Yeah, Huckebein the Raven has his problems; eventually they'll lead to his death…

Nope, not _quite_ everything about The Terrible One has been revealed; but that's a tale for much later, as well.

The F-7D… I haven't thought it all through, but I think it'll have a very minor role a little later on. It was mostly introduced to cover a potential plot hole; you'll see what I mean.

The omission of Aisha's snide remarks was mostly because I managed to completely forget about them; fortunately, it was a rather minor point (and yes, I'm sure I'm about to get a lot of people on my case about that assertion).

As you can see, this chapter partially explains how Ken got so high in ZAFT; unsurprisingly, the final explanation will be awhile in coming.

Not so much an error in the contrast as it being premature. Things will change, as the tale progresses…

Do I actually need to make any more cryptic remarks about the possible Dearka/Mir pairing? I don't anyone would believe me if I tried to be cagey anyway. Instead, I'll try saying nothing for a change (except, I think I just said something…).

Those won't be the last spectacular stunts Ken pulls with a mobile suit; just wait until he gets the Preybird.

I'm afraid I must disagree with your assertion that "Clyne Faction" encompasses the entireThree Ships Alliance. According to the official website, it refers simply to the followers of Lacus Clyne, nothing more. The Three Ships Alliance is the actual overall organization name (otherwise, what would be the point of the term existing?).

Oh, yeah, the third Shiva Option is _very_ complex; I haven't even scratched the surface of it yet in what I've written. There are, however, hints of things to come in this chapter, I you can spot them…

No, I wouldn't consider myself a "casual" Gundam SEED fan; I read every scrap of information I can find, so that my background data is as complete as possible. That's one reason the Newtype thing bothered me so much: I don't like discovering that I've missed such an important element (I guess you could kind of consider Kevin Walker something of a Newtype, as well; it would help me explain his powerful empathic -and minor telepathic- capabilities). I'll probably be going into that a little in this story.

I _might_ have a cameo by Gai Murakumo; if, that is, I can find a little more information about his personality. I know a decent amount about his background, but not the way he thinks and acts (unlike Lowe Guele; I've never read the Astray manga, but I've read about _him,_ at least).

Wild Goose 01, glad you like it; and I'm _very_ glad you approve of the pacing. I caught a lot of flack over that back around Chapter 13.

You'll find that the SEED saga will have quite a few changes with the introduction of the Shiva Option; some large, some small. For Brothers in Arms, my changes were largely very minor, whereas this time I decided to stretch my creative muscles a little. You'll notice several alterations in this chapter alone.

Thanks for the additional information about Shiho; her "cameo" will be rather more important than the others, so I need all the data I can get. As it happens, though, I'm informed she _did_ make a very brief appearance in SEED. I have yet to confirm this myself -mostly because I've forgotten what she looks like- but, though she doesn't speak, she can apparently be seen very briefly in Phase 42, I believe when Lacus' radio message is being played in Carpentaria.

As for flightsuits, that may be so; but if I'm not greatly mistaken, some units _do_ wear different uniforms. I refer specifically to FAITH. If I _am_ greatly mistaken, well… Ken DiFalco would probably have had a little more leeway than usual anyway, given his position.

I rather thought I was correct about the Clyne Faction; I'd assume that the official website would know what it's talking about, after all.

It'll be awhile yet before the pairings are revealed; all I can say is, stay tuned.

I guess that's -finally- everything; another ninety minutes gone. Oh, well; the Quick Edit seems to have been fixed, so the _next_ phase of the update shouldn't be so arduous… -Solid Shark


	19. Chapter 19: Blood Seas

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Aft Deck/Locker Room, March 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

Kira and Cagalli were still enjoying the peace and quiet of the open sea when the general quarters alarm went off. _"All hands to Level One Battlestations! Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations!"_

After but an instant of startled confusion, they were both running for the hatch; a hatch which opened before they reached it, revealing a grim-faced Ken. "Hurry," he said succinctly, immediately turning and racing down the corridor. "So much for our day of rest," he added.

"What's going on?" Kira demanded.

"Not sure yet." Without breaking stride, the ace pulled a headset out of his pocket and put it on. "Bridge, this is DiFalco; just what is going on up there?"

_"Sai here, Falcon,"_ came the reply. _"We're detecting two submarine mobile suits -tentatively ID'd as GOOhNs- and a pair of DINNs."_ He paused. _"We're also getting some kind of intermittent reading; looks like a sensor ghost. Any ideas?"_

"Negative; doesn't ring any bells." They were getting close to the pilots' locker room now. "I'm launching ASAP; if Mu and Sophia aren't already down there, tell them to hurry."

_"Roger that."_

Ken turned to Cagalli. "You with me, partner?"

She nodded decisively. "Just try taking off without me."

"Frankly," he replied, "I don't have a death wish." It was possible he could slice her apart, as he had Heinrich Metzinger... but he remembered their abortive sparring match all too well. "I'll meet you in the hangar, got it?"

"Right."

Kira watched her go. "You're flying with her?" he asked, as they entered the locker room.

The ace nodded, opening a locker and pulling out his own distinctive gray flightsuit. "That's right," he said, pulling on the suit... while simultaneously removing a small patch from his shirt, just to the left of his breastbone. "She's a good gunner, knows what she's doing; just as good as Sophia, really."

Kira hadn't realized until just then how unusual it was for him to put on his flightsuit around other people, but he had no time to comment before Ken sealed it. He did, however, note the glint of some kind of metal apparatus, embedded in his chest...

"Falcon, what is that?" he asked, confused.

"Nothing you need to worry about, my friend. Nothing at all." Ken buckled the flightsuit's belt, adding another pouch of power packs as an afterthought, and grabbed his helmet. "Come on, let's get to the hangar; I think we're about to earn our pay."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Mechanics scattered from the path of the charging figure in gray, who ignored them all on his way to his machine. _I,_ he thought, catching hold of the zip line, _am getting very, very tired of ZAFT attacks. If Victor is out there today, I'm going to be _very _irritated._

Of course, he tended to be very irritated _every_ time Victor Tempest turned up.

Cagalli was already strapped into the gunner's seat when he climbed in. "When do we launch?" she asked immediately.

"As soon as I'm strapped it." Ken went through his usual preflight checklist, taking care not to forget the power connection to his suit, and activated main power. "Bridge, this is DiFalco; ready for catapult connection."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mir answered. _"We're moving you to the port catapult; Strike to starboard. The Skygraspers will launch right after you."_

"Copy."

_"Any special equipment needs today, Commander?"_ Murdoch asked. _"You're about to be dealing with both airborne and underwater machines; and we're still not sure what that sensor-ghost-thing is. Want some heavier firepower?"_

"Negative; what we've got can take just about anything ZAFT can possibly have in this region."

Cagalli looked at the pilot through narrowed eyes. "Pretty confident, aren't you? What if they've got another prototype out there you've never seen before?"

Ken shrugged. "Then we may have problems. But the main point is this: we may have to go underwater, and I want as little drag as possible; it'll be hard enough to maneuver down there in a space model as it is, without adding equipment to the shoulder mounts."

As the Raptor was loaded into the port catapult, she frowned down at her targeting displays. "I don't suppose there's any chance of your 'friends' coming to help us out anytime soon, is there?"

He shook his head, making a few last-minute adjustments to his systems. "Not if they follow orders; right now Sparky, Tom, and Leanne are busy with a special project, one which is far, far more important than anything that may happen today."

"I don't see what good it'll do us if we're dead," Cagalli said acidly.

"We're not going to die here," Ken told her, quite calm. "I'm not saying it's going to be _easy,_ but after everything we've been through so far, I can't see a couple of GOOhNs and a set of DINNs causing us _that_ much trouble. No," he said again, shaking his head, "their project is much more important. It may be the only thing that stands between life and death for the entire world."

"You know, I'm getting really tired of your cryptic predictions of doom, Ken."

"Deal with it." He keyed the radio. "Bridge, we're ready down here."

_"Roger that. Connected to catapult; APU online."_ On the screen, Mir nodded to the pilot. _"You're go for launch, Falcon."_

"Affirm. Grimaldi Falcon, launching." Acceleration pressed them into their seats, and Raptor shot out into the open sky.

* * *

Mu and Sophia had both been kept waiting for several minutes, until Mir's voice came over the radio at last. _"Sorry to keep you waiting,"_ she apologized. _"There's been a change in plans. Strike can't fly in the atmosphere right now -the Aile pack is still being repaired- so he'll be maintaining position in the starboard catapult, firing from there. I'm afraid you'll both have to launch from the port."_

"Roger that," Mu answered. He glanced over at the brilliantly-painted Skygrasper Two. "Kestrel, you go first; you're the atmosphere-combat expert."

"Got it, Hawk." Sophia edged the throttle forward, taxiing into the catapult her brother had just left. "This is the Victorian Kestrel, heading out."

Her fighter shot forward, a blue-and-gold streak, and Skygrasper One quickly took her place. "Mu La Flaga, launching!"

_Time to show this new team why even the Le Creuset and Waltfeld teams couldn't stop us._ He smiled to himself. _Even the Gray Demons themselves might have had trouble with us._

* * *

Gulf of Aden, Battlefield

* * *

"Looks like Sai's sitrep was right on the money," Ken murmured. "Bridge, we got a tallyho on the bandits; heading to engage." 

_"Roger that, Commander,"_ Natarle replied. _"Fire at will."_

"As if I intended to wait for permission," he murmured to his gunner. He switched radio frequencies then, and uttered the ascending wail.

Cagalli stiffened. "Ken, when you made that unearthly noise-" she admitted it probably had a helpful psychological effect against the enemy, but she still wasn't very fond of it "-that 'sensor ghost' turned up again. There _is_ something else out here."

Ken frowned, studying the data. "You're right; somebody's being cagey. Must be some new kind of stealth system..." He switched to his link with the Skygraspers. "Mu, Sophia, I'll let you two handle the DINNs; Cagalli and I will try to figure out what the other thing is."

Mu nodded. "Roger that. Watch your back, little brother."

"Always do."

In the lead DINN, a pilot had heard the hunting call, and he scowled. "So it _is_ you, DiFalco," Commander Marco Morassim hissed. "Today you'll die, traitor." He swung around, orienting his machine toward the slate-gray Raptor, intending to pummel it till its Phase-shift ran out.

"I don't think so!" Mu's fighter dove in on him, firing hyper-impulse shots from his Launcher pack and forcing the ZAFT commander to reconsider his actions.

"Urgh! Noisy fly," Morassim muttered, and charged off in pursuit of the aircraft.

Down below, on _Archangel_'s open starboard flight deck, Kira was attempting to blast the pair of GOOhNs that attacked from below; a task which might have been easier if he'd had a Striker pack.

_But I don't, so I'll just have to make do._

The young Coordinator, though concentrating on the sea below, didn't relax his vigilant observation of the sky. As he was firing another green dart at the water, he caught sight of something moving up above. Just a flicker, almost like a ghost, but...

Kira keyed his radio. "Falcon, that's not a sensor glitch," he called. "I'm not sure what it is, but I just caught a glimpse of it..."

Ken's head snapped up. _Of course!_ "Roger that, Kira," he replied. "Thanks for the warning." Rolling to avoid an attack from the second DINN, he brought down his keyboard and started punching up data. _Let's see; check that data package Sparky sent me..._

"Okay," Cagalli said, sparing a moment to snap off a cannon shot at the DINN, "I give up. _What_ are you doing?"

"Sparky sent me an updated list of ZAFT's mobile suit inventory in his last message," he replied absently. "I remember something about... There. Take a look at this," he said, shunting the data to her display. "He mentioned that ZAFT's managed to reverse-engineer the Blitz's Mirage Colloid; and while they've got a fully-functional version now, they stuck an incomplete model on something called a 'Tactical Air Reconnaissance GINN'. You can catch glimpses of it in when it's moving, but if it stands still, it's invisible."

Cagalli nodded, looking over the information herself. "I get it; if we can catch it just right, fire a shot when it's exposed..." She frowned. "But who would be flying it? Unless..."

"Exactly." Ken keyed his radio, setting it to a standard ZAFT channel. "This Falcon; that you, Victor?"

A low chuckle came over the speaker. "Hello, Boss; I wondered when you'd figure it out. Of course, I'm not sure how you _did_ figure it out, but..."

"I still have sources in the PLANTs, Raven." His eye narrowed. "Exactly what do you hope to accomplish? You may have that assault beam rifle, but that won't do you much good if I slice it in half, now will it out? You must have a death wish."

"Maybe I do," Huckebein acknowledged. "But who says this is a _standard_ TAR GINN?" The black-painted machine flickered into existence... and drew a pair of beam sabers from its hips.

"Hmm." Ken examined the situation. "We may have a slight problem here," he admitted to his gunner. "But, we all do what we must. Shall we go take him down now?"

Cagalli nodded. "Let's; I'm getting tired of this guy."

Huckebein laughed again. "Actually going to finish the job this time, Falcon? Go ahead and try!" His flight-capable GINN rushed forward, while Raptor drew its own melee weapons.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Mobile weapons are engaged, Ma'am," Mir reported. "We have now confirmed the total enemy force to consist of two GOOhNs, two DINNs, and one experimental GINN variant. Skygraspers One and Two are engaging the DINNs, and Strike is attempting to engage the GOOhNs; Raptor is now attacking the GINN." 

"Roger," Murrue responded. "Can we assist them?"

"Not with heavy weaponry, Captain," Natarle told her. "We have Igelstellungs engaging the DINNs and GOOhNs; but we can't help Raptor at all. The situation-"

The two flight-capable machines flashed past the Bridge, striking at each other with sabers.

"-is too chaotic," she finished. "As you can see."

Murrue grimaced. "Understood; keep me informed, please; and Ensign Neumann, try to keep _Archangel_ out of harm's way!"

"Yes, Ma'am." Even as he spoke, Neumann juked the big ship to one side, letting a GOOhN-fired missile fly harmlessly past.

* * *

Gulf of Aden, Battlefield

* * *

Kira cursed, watching another shot splash uselessly into the water. "Chief Murdoch!" he called, taking a shot on his shield. 

_"What is it, kid?"_ the mechanic replied swiftly.

"Didn't the supplies from the Eighth Fleet include a bazooka?" He fired another green dart, and had the satisfaction of watching it blow away a missile.

_"Yeah,"_ Murdoch said, puzzled. _"What about it?"_

"Please get it for me." Kira stared at the water which was the GOOhNs' defense. "I'm goin' down there after them."

On the monitor, the grease monkey blinked in surprise. _"Wait a minute, kid!"_ he protested. _"The Strike's a space model; it can't-"_

"I _know_ that!" the pilot interrupted. "But we have to do _something,_ and there isn't time to think of a better option!"

_"Okay, kid."_ Murdoch sighed. _"One bazooka, coming right up."_ The older man just hoped Kira wasn't making a big mistake.

* * *

In the sky, Raptor and GINN battled; and this time, the odds were more even. Huckebein's machine had lost bits of armor in the fierce engagement, but Raptor, too, had gouges, mostly around the Panzer Eisen rocket anchor/shield. It was going to be a battle of attrition. 

Cagalli was fighting to keep track of everything that was going on; both Ken and his enemy were moving so fast they were giving the targeting computers fits. _No wonder Ken doesn't use targeting computers,_ she thought irately, struggling for a lock. _The computer can't keep up with him!_

Frozen fire flashed, clashing and breaking apart in arcs of bright energy, neither truly getting the upper hand. "You've kept in practice, Victor," Ken grunted, clashing both sabers against his opponent's. "I didn't expect you to last this long."

"Yeah, well, I had incentive, didn't I?" The Raven grinned. "I knew that one day you'd be back, and I could pay you back for what you did to me." Deep inside, a part of him was railing at the rest of him, trying to regain control, but that part wasn't strong enough to win the battle...

"I did nothing to you that you didn't bring on yourself," the ace retorted. With a fast spin -which, just incidentally, added a little more stress to the frame- and a jet of his verniers, he managed to gain an extra hundred meters of altitude, before diving back in with a falcon's scream.

Huckebein recoiled in time to save himself, but not his left-hand saber. "I should have remembered, Falcon," he hissed. "You always did like dive and slash attacks, didn't you?"

"Just part of my charm," Ken said easily. "Now get out of the way!"

In another part of the sky, Mu and Sophia twisted and dove with the pair of DINNs, firing at every opportunity. Not many of them had come up yet... but now one did. "Kestrel, Fox Two!" Sophia called, and unleashed a salvo of missiles against Morassim's compatriot.

The pilot tried to pull away, but his DINN wasn't quite as maneuverable as the missiles chasing it. After a brief scream, the salvo impacted, blowing him away.

Mu raised a fist. "Nice shot, Kestrel! Another chalk outline."

"I prefer 'roasted turkey'," she said, swooping back into the sky, "but that'll do. C'mon, let's get this other guy." With a laugh of pure exhilaration, the Victorian Kestrel dove back into the fight. "She stoops to conquer!" she shouted, firing her beam turret.

Down below, Kira had finally gotten the weaponry he needed, but now that he was ready to take the plunge, he hesitated. _Falcon is still up there,_ he thought, _fighting that Raven guy. Is there anything I con do...? Wait a second..._

Holding the bazooka one-handed for a moment, he picked up the discarded beam rifle. "Falcon, catch!"

Ken turned, saw the weapon hurtling toward him, and dropped his left-hand saber in order to snatch the rifle out of midair. "Thanks, Kira," he called. "Now go get those GOOhNs."

"Roger that." Strike took a couple of running steps and leapt straight out over the water. He seemed to hang there for several moments, and then he dropped beneath the waves.

Huckebein, seeing that, shook his head. "Just what is he planning to do? That thing can't swim."

"Never bet against Kira Yamato," Ken advised, raising the newly-acquired rifle to firing position. "Those who do, tend to die."

The Raven raised an eyebrow. "Another rifle, huh? You know, I'm not sure what good mixing melee and ranged attacks will-"

That was when he noticed that Raptor had put away its right-hand saber, and now held rifles in _both_ hands... and both were pointed directly at him.

"Hm. This seems to change the paradigm a little." The GINN dropped its own blades, switching instead to its single rifle. "Shall we see who's the better shot, old comrade? The man who hates guns, or the man returned from the dead to fight him?"

"If you think you can win this contest, Raven," Ken said coldly, "you are welcome to try."

Behind him, Cagalli surreptitiously readied the beam cannons.

* * *

Gulf of Aden, Underwater

* * *

One GOOhN pilot laughed openly, seeing the Strike dive into the water. "A space model?" he chuckled to his partner. 

"Worthless underwater," the other pilot agreed. "Let's go show him the error of his ways."

Watching the GOOhNs head straight for him, Kira frowned. _Here they come,_ he thought. _This isn't gonna be easy; but it never is, is it?_

His bazooka was out and ready by the time they reached him; and he had one advantage: sheer thruster power. They used scale systems to effortlessly slice through the water, but he could do the same -albeit with less maneuverability- through brute force.

Not to mention the fact that scale systems were much more fragile...

_Here goes nothing._ Kira fired his bazooka, only to curse as it missed completely. The GOOhN's maneuverability _did_ count for something, after all.

"That the best you can do, Natural?" the enemy pilot sneered. "I've seen better from a new-made recruit." He fired a barrage of torpedoes at the humanoid machine.

They did nothing at all to his Phase-shift-equipped machine; his bazooka was not nearly as lucky, and Kira groaned as it broke in half. _Now what am I supposed to do?_ He hastily backed away, thinking furiously. _Come on, come on... what was it Falcon said about GOOhNs? Something about... water pressure!_

That was it. If he could just pierce the submarine units' outer armor, the water pressure would crush the imperfect shell, imploding the entire machine. And making gashes in mobile suit armor was _exactly_ what his Armor Schneiders had been designed to do...

Drawing them, the Strike turned back to face its adversaries once again.

* * *

Gulf of Aden, Above Water

* * *

Ken muted his radio, while taking a shot from Victor's GINN on Raptor's shield. "When the time is right," he murmured to his gunner, "fire the cannons." 

Cagalli nodded, flexing her hands. "How will I know when the time is right?"

"You'll know."

They were in the middle of what Cagalli privately termed the "cautious sparring" phase of Ken's battle plan. It seemed as though every time he ran into a new machine, he spent some time evaluating its capabilities through skirmishing; this seemed to be no exception. She had the feeling he could have ended this long since, right after he obtained Kira's rifle, but he seemed intent on gathering as much information as possible first.

_Probably for future reference,_ she thought, recalling the pilot's obsession with careful planning. _Now, if he'll just hurry up..._

Inevitably, Huckebein got a shot past their guard, ripping away a chunk of Raptor's torso armor; and nearly taking a chunk of the cockpit with it. "You just gonna float there, Falcon?" Huckebein demanded. "While I blow you to pieces?"

Ken ignored him. The damage was a small price to pay; he now had the information he needed. He boosted back into the sky, readying his rifles...

...And a Skygrasper hurtled down out of the sky, firing a beam turret at the GINN.

Ken was correct: Cagalli knew _precisely _when to fire.

Tempest fired desperately at the same moment, but green energy flashed from both beam rifles, the beam cannons, and a beam turret, all at once, and his armor splintered and shattered where the emerald death struck.

His last shots weren't quite in vain -they succeeded in blowing away both rifles, and one of the cannons- but Huckebein's machine took far, far worse damage. Both legs were gone, the head, both arms, and the wings. It had been essentially reduced to a cockpit, and he howled in frustration as he fell. _"Next time, Falcon,"_ he shouted at the top of his lungs, _"it'll be over! I'll _make _you kill me!"_

Cagalli shook her head as the TAR GINN dropped in the water. "Does that guy have a death wish or something?"

"I have no idea." Ken keyed the radio. _"Archangel,_ this is Falcon; we're down to just the GOOhNs and a DINN; we're returning for repairs. Huckebein gave almost as good as he got." He smiled, very slightly. "Almost... but not quite."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mir said with a smile of relief. _"You're cleared to land; good work out there."_

"Thanks; but it was Cagalli's shot that blew him out of the air." Behind him, Cagalli was quietly smug about blowing off the GINN's wings. "What's Kira's status?"

Mir's expression turned grim. _"We're not sure. Sonar shows weapons' fire, but we think he only got off one shot from the bazooka..."_

Ken nodded, equally grim. "I see. Well, don't worry too much, Miriallia; Kira's a superb pilot, and he has Phase-shift. Those ZAFT machines do not."

_"Yeah. You're right."_

* * *

Gulf of Aden, Underwater/Above Water

* * *

By the time the first GOOhN reached him, Kira was nearly ready. The machine managed to slam into him before he was _completely_ set... but the enemy pilot unknowingly made it all the easier for the Strike to destroy him and his machine. 

The ZAFT pilot was chuckling to himself as he forced the Strike backward through the water. "See? You're no match-"

A metal hand moved, and the Armor Schneider ripped through the GOOhN's armor as though it were made of cheese. This weakened the machine's structure, leaving it vulnerable to the immense water pressure bearing down on it...

The pilot didn't even have time to scream before his machine crumpled around him, turning it into a strangely-shaped alloy coffin.

_That's one down,_ Kira thought, breathing hard. _But there's still one left; and I don't think that trick will work twice..._

"You bastard!" the other pilot hissed. "You'll pay for that!" He fired a barrage of torpedoes, soundly cursing all the while.

Now it was Kira's turn to curse; the torpedoes, while harmless to him, blew away his other Armor Schneider, leaving him weaponless. "Oh, no," he whispered. "Now what am I gonna do?" He felt an instant of envy of Ken whose mobile suit was equipped with even greater firepower...

Above, two Skygraspers danced across the sky with a DINN between them. Marco Morassim was a fairly decent pilot, and that was the only thing keeping him alive as shot after shot spat across the sky toward him; even the _Archangel_ had joined in. "This is pointless," he hissed to himself, trying to get a bead on his adversaries. "You can't dodge forever!"

He wasn't aware he was transmitting (and probably wouldn't have thought anything of it if he was; it didn't even occur to him that _Archangel_ had been furnished with ZAFT frequencies). "You're right," Mu murmured, "we _can't_ dodge forever... but we don't have to, do we?"

"Nope," Sophia agreed; she was quite cheerful, having helped blast Victor Tempest out of the sky yet again. "Your move, Mu."

"Got it, Kestrel."

Morassim cursed viciously. He'd managed to avoid another salvo of missiles from one of the aircraft, but now streaks of light were coming down from the sky. One of them managed to blow off his left arm, dropping it and the weapon he carried into the deep beneath; he assumed it would fall to the bottom of the sea.

He assumed wrong.

Kira was still evading the second GOOhN when he noticed something drifting down from the surface. _Is that...? Yes..._ It was the disembodied arm of a mobile suit... still clutching a shotgun in dead, motionless fingers. If he could pry the weapon loose...

The GOOhN pilot had no idea what the Strike was up to when it suddenly stopped, but he wasn't complaining. "Idiot," he murmured. "Well, I guess he decided there's no point in dying tired..." Abandoning caution, he rushed forward.

Straight into a shotgun blast.

The pilot's eyes went wide for an instant, then shut forever when his machine crumpled into a ball.

Up above, Morassim noticed the implosion. "What? They've both been destroyed? But... You'll pay for that, legged ship!"

"Not today!" Mu put his fighter into a steep dive, and this time his cannon hit something a little more vital to the DINN's functioning.

Morassim cursed yet again, feeling the shock of a wing disintegrating. "Time to retreat," he hissed. "I'll get you next time, legged ship." He turned tail and flew away, chased by another flurry of energy fire.

Once again, _Archangel_ had been attacked; and once again, it had been victorious. Now it was time for them to regroup, as well.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Some hours after the battle, the officers had again gathered on the Bridge, this time to discuss the current situation. 

"That was quite the unexpected turn of events," Mu commented, and looked over at his younger brother. "Guess we should have listened to your warnings about ZAFT submarine forces, Falcon."

Ken shrugged, arms folded, hands tucked into his trench coat; even now, he disliked his Earth Forces uniform and preferred to hide it under his coat. "Not your fault, either of you," he said, encompassing Murrue with his remarks. "Even I didn't expect to run into them; the _Archangel_ must really have them spooked."

Sophia nodded. "Unfortunately for them, they don't seem to have much respect for what they're dealing with." She frowned. "Any idea what team they were from?"

"I listened to recorded radio transmissions," he answered, eye narrow. "If I'm not mistaken, the pilot of the surviving DINN was one Commander Marco Morassim."

Natarle raised an eyebrow. "Marco Morassim? I'm not familiar with the name."

Ken shrugged again. "No reason you should be; Morassim isn't bad against conventional wet-navy forces, but then any ZAFT man worth his coat can deal with conventional forces easily enough. He's really not that bright; a by-the-book sort with a healthy ego and an even healthier distaste for Rau Le Creuset. Calls him a punk." He smiled slightly. "About the only thing we agree on; but he probably launched that idiotic attack in an attempt to show Rau up."

"You've met the man?" Murrue asked.

"Once; we don't have a high opinion of each other." The almost imperceptible smile thinned noticeably. "I don't think he ever got over the notion of a seventeen-year-old kid getting promoted over him like that."

Actually, she suspected there had been quite a few stubbed toes over that one; even she had been unable to determine what exactly had prompted Patrick Zala to put so much faith in one teenager, and she rather suspected it wasn't widely known in _ZAFT,_ either.

"Well," Mu went on after a moment, "now we have a general idea of what we're dealing with out here. Any ideas about what else they can throw at us?"

Ken thought about that. "Unless they can send another submarine our way," he said slowly, "not much. We're too far from Carpentaria for land-based machines to reach us, and we just took out a good portion of Morassim's forces. There's a possibility that Huckebein's TAR GINN could be restored to flight status, but not for a few days yet, at least; we really did a number on him." He frowned. "If memory serves, Morassim's submarine -probably a _Vosgulov_-class submarine carrier- can't have much more in terms of mobile suits. I'd say... a couple of GOOhNs, and maybe some kind of command unit left. Probably a ZnO, in the latter case; big, green machine, really ugly, but very effective underwater."

Murrue nodded. "Think they'll be more cautious next time around?"

He snorted. "Marco Morassim? Not likely. One thing to remember about the man, Murrue: he does not learn from his mistakes. At least not until he's made them three or four times. Besides, even the best can be guilty of underestimating their opponent; the Magic Bullet of Dusk fatally underestimated the Strike, despite having already lost to it once."

Mu smiled. "Then I guess all we do for now is keep an eye out, right? No brilliant plans this time?"

"Mu," Ken told him, "Marco Morassim couldn't find his own backside without radar, laser designators, and inertial guidance; he's too stupid for a brilliant plan to work. Lesson Thirty-nine: Subtlety is of use only against those smart enough to be fooled by it." He turned toward the hatch. "If you'll excuse me, I need to rest."

As he left Murrue glanced at Sophia. "Is it just me, or has he needed to do that right after _every_ battle we've fought on Earth?"

The Kestrel leaned against the bulkhead. "It's the gravity, Murrue; he's still adjusting to it. Remember, he's spent very little of his life in full Earth-gravity. Even the space colonies -be they PLANT or Island-Three type, like Heliopolis- have somewhat less than full gravity; and aside from four months on Heliopolis, he's spent most of the last three years or so in _zero_ gravity. I don't think he's quite adapted to Earth yet."

"I see..." _That makes sense; especially since he hates planets._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Ken's Quarters

* * *

_"You can't deny the potential of that weapon, Falcon; and it _was _you that devised the basic strategies for its use."_

_"Granted. And, to be sure, I'll sleep more soundly once we have something that can truly defend the PLANTs from an Earth Forces attack. There will never be another Junius Seven, if there's anything _I _can say about it."_

_"Agreed. We cannot forgive them for the Bloody Valentine... ever."_

_"Just what plan _are _you using for GENESIS' deployment, Patrick?"_

_"Take a look, Falcon; and if you have any refinements to make to your old battle plan, now might be the time."_

_"You can't be serious! That goes far beyond anything we ever discussed with the Council, Patrick!"_

_"You've gone too far, Patrick! Too far!"_

_From his vantage point in the dark of space amid the hourglasses of the PLANTs, the gray-clad ace stared in horror. The silvery disc spat its glowing beam toward the alignment mirror, which reflected the stream back into the inner mirror. The entire installation began to glow... and it sent the energy out into space a second time._

_The piercing beam of light speared into Earth's surface, burning, scorching... searing the entire planet clean of life, while one man's laughter echoed..._

_A different scene. The slate-gray GINN desperately fired its machine gun again and again, but failed to connect on the mobile armor it was chasing. Surviving to attack range, it launched its deadly nuclear missile-cargo, which was to impact in Junius Seven mere seconds later._

_Caught too close to the coming blast was another GINN, already badly damaged. "Get out of here, Falcon, before it's too late! There's nothing more you can do..." A cough. "That nuke's about to hit, and I'm not getting out of here. You've got to make it... and make sure this never happens again. Don't let our -my- sacrifice have been in vain..."_

_An anguished cry came from the gray GINN, then a head came up, and Prussian blue eyes went wide and Berserker-clear..._

* * *

Ken sat bolt upright. "Not again..." he whispered. "Why can I never get any _rest?"_

He knew the answer, of course. Ever since February Fourteenth, C.E. 71, he'd had nightmares. Of the Bloody Valentine, of the Battle of Endymion Crater... of the coming cataclysm he was fighting desperately to prevent. Vivid images went through his mind, and true rest was impossible...

Ken checked the time, and noted with disgust that it was 0200 hours; about average, but still far less than he would have preferred.

"Well," he told himself, "I might as well go prowl the corridors; I'm not going to get anymore sleep tonight. Maybe somebody else is up..."

The ace went to his storage closet and opened it; his gaze first went longingly to the red ZAFT uniform that hung there... but he knew it wasn't time to wear it again. _Not while I'm still with the Earth Forces. That would endanger me... and dishonor the uniform. No, not till the time comes for the real mission to begin; not till Preybird is complete, and _Asmodeus _is nearer to commissioning..._

Instead, Ken drew on his usual Earth Forces uniform, minus the jacket, and fastened the gray trench coat over it. At his hip was the only relic of the Gray Demons that he currently permitted himself to wear; other than his custom flightsuit, which he wore for medical reasons.

Affixing the eyepatch over his mutated left eye, the pilot stepped out into the corridor for a night of prowling.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria, March 7th, C.E. 71

* * *

Five of the students-turned-crew-members were in the cafeteria when Ken stepped in for lunch. His presence there, once an unusual occurrence, was becoming more frequent, as he grew more at ease with the crew. As near as anyone could determine, he'd finally resigned himself to being with the ship for the long haul. 

Or that was the going theory, at any rate; Mir, for one, wasn't so sure -it seemed to her that, from the moment the ace had set foot on the _Archangel_'s deck at Heliopolis, the ship had become a part of his plan- but she didn't really care, either.

"Hey, Falcon," she greeted with a bright smile. "Good afternoon."

He nodded in response, and sat at one of the tables; not _with_ the students, but not as far apart as he might have been, either. "Afternoon, Miriallia." Without another word, the eyepatch-wearing pilot applied himself to eating, with the same single-minded efficiency he devoted to every task.

_It's almost as if he plans even his meals down to the last detail,_ she thought, amused. _Well, who knows? Maybe he does._

Meanwhile, Sai, Kuzzey, and Tolle were discussing the ship's course, while using a small computer to check the data. "You know," Tolle pointed out, "the _Archangel_'s course will take her pretty close to the Orb Union; we'll be going right past their territorial waters."

Kuzzey leaned forward. "Hey, you're right; maybe we could get a little shore leave?" he said hopefully. "I've never actually seen the homeland before..."

Sai frowned. "I don't know, you guys... I don't think we're likely to get any time off in the near future; we _are_ making for Alaska as fast as we can."

"But if there's even a chance..."

"If we were to go even a kilometer into Orb's territory, Kuzzey," Ken said softly, "we'd be blown out of the water. They jealously guard their neutrality, and will by no means permit an armed warship from _either_ side to enter their territory at this point. I don't blame them, either; after Heliopolis, they must be less than happy with both sides... with good reason."

"But they agreed to build the _Archangel_ and those mobile suits," Kuzzey protested. "Can they really complain if it went wrong?"

"Yes," the ace said simply. "I don't believe it was the government that approved the G-weapon project; I rather suspect it was largely the Sahaku family's influence that brought that about."

Cagalli had entered the compartment during the discussion, and now sat with Kira. "He's probably right," she murmured, quietly enough that only the Coordinator heard. "I doubt my father knew _nothing_ about it, but it probably was the Sahakus behind it." She grimaced. "Rondo Ghina and Rondo Mina Sahaku have always been ambitious. My family doesn't get along with theirs very well."

Kira nodded. _She'd know, wouldn't she?_ The revelation of her identity had come as something of a shock to him, but he was having little trouble obeying her injunction not to treat her like a princess. He'd met her long enough before learning that that it was simply habit now.

"Still," Tolle was arguing, "our parents are there; doesn't _that_ matter?"

Ken shook his head. "From their perspective? Probably not. And you have to admit they have a point, Tolle. If you were just students, that could be one thing; they'd probably send someone to pick you up without hesitation. But now you're official members of the Earth Forces, and _that_ makes all the difference."

"So we can't go see them until we're discharged?" Kuzzey said plaintively. "That's just..."

"War, Kuzzey," the ace said gently. "That's war; soldiers always go a long time without seeing family and friends. It's part of the sacrifice they make, for the greater good."

Cagalli smiled a little at that. "I don't think Kuzzey liked hearing _that,"_ she whispered. "And coming from anyone else, _I'd_ consider it an arrogant thing to say. But coming from him..." She shrugged. "Well, is it still arrogant when the person saying it is arrogant?"

Kira winced. "That sounds like a Zen koan."

"A little, I guess," she admitted. "But then, _he's_ like a Zen koan, isn't he? I don't think anybody aboard the _Archangel_ knows what he's really up to."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure _he_ knows what he's up to. I mean, he's brilliant... but I sometimes think maybe he's a little..."

"Crazy?" Cagalli suggested, and shrugged. "Maybe so; even he admits he's obsessed. But... there's _something_ going on, and I think this ship is a big part of it."

"Just as long as we survive it," Kira muttered. He was all too familiar with how the eccentric genius had subordinated everything to his cause; on the other hand, the _Archangel_ probably wouldn't do him much good if it got blown up or something.

She touched his shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, this ship's survived even Le Creuset and the Desert Tiger; we'll be fine."

"Yeah." He shook himself. "Yeah, you're right."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Think we're still in range of that submarine?" Sophia asked idly, lounging near the bow of the Bridge. "It's been four days..." 

Murrue shrugged. "You'd have to ask Falcon that; he knows more about this Morassim fellow; on the other hand, I'm not sure he'd know, either. If the team is going by procedure, instead of initiative, it might be harder to predict. They've doubtless begun changing how they operate since learning of his defection."

"Don't be so sure it's gotten _that_ far, Murrue," the Kestrel told her. "Remember, never underestimate how much bureaucratic inertia can slow things down, even in a situation like this."

"I suppose. Still..."

"Anomalous sonar contacts!" Tonomura called out. "Reading one submarine, and three launch sounds; believed to be underwater mobile suits."

"Specify," Natarle snapped. "What are we dealing with?"

He frowned, listening. "It sounds like... the same _Vosgulov_ -the propeller frequency seems to be identical- two GOOhNs... and a ZnO."

"Roger that." She turned to her left. "Crewman Haw, order all pilots to their machines."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Prepare of battle," Murrue ordered. "All hands to Level One Battlestations, and prepare for combat with undersea units."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

"Always knew Morassim was an idiot," Ken muttered, fastening his flightsuit on the run. "Chief, how's Raptor?" he asked of the mechanic. 

"We've got it fixed, Commander," Murdoch answered. "Didn't take too long to put on a new beam cannon, and there wasn't much else wrong with it. But there's one thing-"

Ken didn't give him time to finish. "Good; I'm launching immediately." The pilot leapt into his machine, and immediately began startup procedures; he wasn't surprised when Cagalli arrived a few moments later.

"Thought you were leaving without me, did you?" she asked, strapping into the gunner's seat. "Not a chance, Ken."

"Actually, I figured you were going to turn up," he told her, connecting his suit to the mobile suit's power supply. "I just didn't see any reason to wait on getting my preflight started; in a battle, any battle, seconds count." He closed the hatch. "Shall we go?" Without waiting for a response, he got on the radio. "Bridge, this is Raptor; we're go for launch."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mir replied. _"You'll be loaded into the starboard catapult, as soon as Kira launches; he's intending to deal with the ZnO," _she added.

"Got it." Ken looked back over his shoulder. "That means you and I take the GOOhNs, got it?"

"Right." Cagalli paused. "But can Raptor manage underwater combat?"

His shrug was not very reassuring. "Beats me." Ahead, the Strike -equipped with the Sword pack- launched, and their machine followed it into the catapult. "Let's find out, shall we?"

"And hope we don't die in the process..."

* * *

_Vosgulov-_class Submarine Carrier _Hades,_ Bridge

* * *

"Morassim is at it again?" Sparky Cooper rumbled. "What lovely timing that bone-headed imbecile of a commander has." 

"Agreed," Tom Delaney said tightly, from fire-control.

Their ship -officially decommissioned, like much of the Gray Demons' purloined gear- had been shadowing _Archangel_ since shortly after the ship's last encounter with the Morassim team. Now they were close enough to intervene in the coming battle... if they had the capability.

"Can we assist?" Sparky questioned. "They can probably handle this by themselves, but I don't want to take any chances..."

Tom shrugged, never taking his gaze from his targeting screen. "We can probably go after the _Vosgulov_ -carefully- but the mobile suits? I'm afraid not."

"What about Preybird?"

Leanne Eldridge handled that question. "Sorry, Sparky, but it's out of the question. We have the basic frame complete -have since late last month- but while we also have the basic weapons installed... No, I wouldn't want to try it."

"Why not?" Sparky demanded.

"Because," Tom said acidly, "we can't be sure it won't blow up on us. There's a reason weapons are _tested_ before use, Sparky; we don't know how those things will act in the real world. We need time to test them. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"But it won't do the Boss any good if he's killed before we can get it to him-"

"And it won't do _anybody_ any good if we blow it up before it's even complete!" the engineer snapped. "Listen, Sparky, I know just as well as you do how fragile the Boss's machine is right now. But I'm telling you, we can't afford to launch Preybird. Not yet. Give me two weeks, and NJC or no NJC, I can give you partial combat capacity. But today, it just ain't happening."

Sparky sighed. "And we can't afford to use the other units, since they're ZAFT standard and could blow the whole thing wide open... All right, Tom, you win. Stand by for antisubmarine warfare; as soon as we're in range, I want Morassim's flagship dead."

Leanne twisted in her chair, and the Bridge crew likewise looked at their commander. "Sparky," she said softly, "you know that means we'll be killing our own people."

The huge commander shook his head sadly. "Leanne, 'our own people' are those who are part of Shiva Option Three; the rest of ZAFT... Look, the Boss knew it would come to this one day. That's obvious from Preybird's design. There comes a time when drastic measures must be taken... and that day is today."

The green-haired test pilot sighed in turn. "I guess you're right, Sparky."

* * *

Indian Ocean, Battlefield, Above Water/Underwater

* * *

Raptor burst out into the sunlight just in time to see the Strike disappear beneath the waves, Schwerht Gewehr in hand. "There goes Kira," Ken murmured. "Morassim is about to have problems; now let's go do _our_ job." 

"Right," Cagalli agreed, bringing up her targeting systems.

That was when Murdoch's urgent-sounding voice came over the radio. _"Hey, Commander! There's something I really need to tell you."_

"What's that?" The pilot brought the machine higher into the sky, preparing for a steep dive into the ocean. "I'm a little busy right now, Chief."

_"I know that,"_ the mechanic said impatiently, _"but this is important. Look, I was trying to you this before you took off: there's a problem with your Phase-shift."_

That brought Ken up short. "What kind of problem?" he asked carefully.

_"You've got a weak spot, in the torso; probably a result of the stress fractures. I think I can fix it, but it means that for this battle, you'll want to avoid getting hit by _anything _in your port side."_

The ace cursed. "Roger that, Chief. This isn't good," he added to his gunner.

Cagalli frowned. "Why? I mean, I know that's a little close to the cockpit, but..."

"There are too many vital systems that could be hit," he told her. "Things like power feeds to the weapons, control linkages... a lot of things. Not one of them good." He shrugged. "But we don't have much choice, do we?" Without further talk, he shoved the controls forward.

GAT-X107 Raptor dove into the choppy seas below.

* * *

Elsewhere, two Skygraspers were closing on the _Vosgulov._ This time they'd localized it; and this time, they were going to sink it. 

"Here we go, Kestrel," Mu murmured to his wingmate. "Time to go put that thing out of our misery; what do you say?"

"Right with you, Hawk." This time, they were both armed with Launcher Strikers; the spare was back up and running, so they'd decided overwhelming force was in order. "This _is_ overkill, you know, against just one submarine."

"I think Falcon would say that there's no such thing as overkill." Mu considered that, then shook his head. "On second thought, I think he'd say 'Better overkill than underkill'."

Sophia grinned. "That's, what, Lesson Forty-two?"

"Yeah; I see you've read his book, too."

She shrugged. "We've been on better terms lately, so I figured it was time I learned a little more about what made him tick." The Kestrel frowned at her Heads-Up Display. "Coming up on the target, Mu."

"I see it." Mu rolled ninety degrees, looking down at the submarine. "It's surfacing," he reported. "Makes sense; according to Falcon, they can't do much when submerged except launch amphibious mobile suits. To use the vertical launch tubes, they have to surface, and the same for any weapons they might have that could hurt the _Archangel._" He armed his weapons. "Let's go."

"Roger that." The pair of fighters swooped in, firing hyper-impulse cannons at the soon-to-be-vulnerable ship; the first shots having little effect, diluted as they were by the water. _But it's only a matter of time before- What the?_ "Mu, what's...?"

"I see it." Though he wasn't sure _what_ he was seeing. There seemed to be something else down there; a silhouette of another ship, perhaps? It wasn't moving... but it seemed to be hiding, even from the _Vosgulov._ What was it...?

Beneath the waves, an order was given, and firing controls pressed. Torpedo tubes flooded with water; and the final order was given.

Mu let out an incredulous curse when the _Vosgulov_ suddenly exploded, detonating with tremendous force. "But we didn't even hit!"

"What the _blazes_ just happened?" Sophia demanded. "What killed it?"

"I don't know." The Hawk slowly shook his head, completely bemused. "Whatever it was, I don't think that ship ever knew it was there. Anyway, we'd better get back to the _Archangel."_

"Roger that."

The Skygraspers wheeled around and shot back the way they'd came; and beneath the ocean, a huge man sighed regretfully.

* * *

The shockwave was noticed all the way over in the patch of water where Raptor now approached its foes. "Hmm," Ken murmured. "I do believe these GOOhNs no longer have a mothership." 

"That's something," Cagalli observed. "But I have to ask you something: is this the first time you've fought underwater?"

He glanced back at her. "Yeah; like I told you, I spent the war in space. Why?"

"Because," she pointed out sourly, "it doesn't seem to have occurred to you that we don't have much in the way of weaponry that will even _work_ down here."

The pilot blinked, glanced at his displays, back at her, and then to his screens again. _Beam sabers, beam rifle, beam cannons, wired gunbarrels..._ He looked up, and said, very calmly, "Oops."

Cagalli sighed. "I was afraid of that. I don't suppose there's a Plan B?"

Ken thought furiously, cursing himself for such a _stupid_ tactical error. "Beams don't work very well underwater," he murmured, "which leaves... just the Armor Schneiders and the Panzer Eisen." His hands tightened on the controls. "Time for some fancy work, partner; I'm transferring control of the left arm to you. You handle the snatch, I'll handle the stab."

"Right," she acknowledged. "And next time, how about you think of these things _before_ you dive a hundred meters beneath the water?"

"We're more than a hundred meters down," he said grimly. "I'm going to try to lure these GOOhNs closer to the surface; as it is, if we take a hit to that weakened section of PSA, we'll be crushed by water pressure. That, partner," he said dryly, "comes under the heading of A Bad Thing."

"I bet. Here they come," she added in warning.

"Roger that. Let's get them."

Raptor turned about, racing away from the _Archangel_ and toward the water's surface.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

It seemed absurdly calm on the Bridge. 

_If this is a battle,_ Murrue thought to herself, _then why is it so quiet in here?_ "What's going on out there?" she asked of the crew at large.

Natarle shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Ma'am; Commanders La Flaga and DiFalco report the _Vosgulov_ was destroyed -by an unknown force, no less- and the Strike seems to be keeping the ZnO at bay. The GOOhNs _were_ attacking us, but they seem to have left sonar range; and so has the Raptor."

"Can you punch a signal through to Raptor?"

"Negative, Ma'am," Mir responded. "I can't even find them to contact them; and even if I could, I don't think the signal would carry through the water very well. Not through the N-jammer interference."

"At least we're in one piece," Natarle offered. "That counts for something."

"Yes..." Murrue stared moodily at her main display; currently empty of the usual scenes of battle. "But we won't stay that way if we lose track of our mobile suits. Keep trying to find them."

"Yes, Captain."

* * *

Indian Ocean, Battlefield

* * *

The Raptor had managed to lure its opponents some distance from the _Archangel_ before Ken decided it was time. "Get ready with that rocket anchor," he said softly. "And don't be too startled if something explodes on contact; the Panzer Eisen might be enough to break the armor all by itself, so the results could be... implosive." 

"How reassuring," Cagalli muttered. "Okay, I'm ready."

The first GOOhN pilot was heartily amused when he realized that _this_ space model had even more problems than the Strike. "Hey," he told his partner, "this should be easy; he doesn't even have anything that can hurt us down here."

The other pilot grinned. "Then let's get him!"

"Steady," Ken murmured, watching the machines approach. "Steady... don't fire until the exact moment..."

Cagalli didn't have to be told. She had enough experience with the Raptor's weapons now to judge when it would be time to launch the Panzer Eisen. _And that time,_ she thought, eyes narrow with concentration, _...is now!_ She pulled the trigger, launching the rocket anchor out into the ocean.

The ZAFT pilot was extremely startled when the claw grabbed hold of his machine's arm. "What the-!" he cried out in surprise, as his GOOhN was pulled close to its erstwhile prey. "No-!"

Raptor's free hand suddenly held an Armor Schneider, and it drove right into the GOOhN's monoeye, blinding it... and disrupting the delicate balance that kept it intact.

Cagalli wrenched the anchor free just in time to avoid losing it in the implosion. "Whoa; that was... really something."

"Yeah," Ken agreed. "But we've still got one more of them to deal with. Get ready to fire the anchor again; I'm heading to less dangerous depths."

"Right."

The remaining GOOhN pilot snarled in anger, watching his enemy ascend. "You're not getting away that easy!" he shouted, and followed it up. He raised his machine's right "hand", and fired a salvo of torpedoes.

"Uh oh." Ken wrenched Raptor around as sharply as the water permitted, but it wasn't enough to completely evade the torpedoes. One struck the mobile suit... squarely on the weak spot.

As damage reports scrolled on the main monitors of both cockpit positions, Cagalli fired the Panzer Eisen one more time. "Take that!"

The GOOhN was deeper than Raptor; even so that, unlike the Earth Forces unit, a simple hull breach would be enough to cause catastrophic implosion.

And having a rocket anchor rip into your hull usually constitutes a breach.

"We got it," Cagalli said, satisfied, as they began to ascend once more.

"Yeah," Ken said grimly, looking over the damage reports. "But we took a hit in the worst possible place." He fiddled with the radio, and nodded when he managed to punch a signal through to the retreating Skygraspers. "Mu, Sophia, this is Falcon; do you read me?"

"Barely," Mu replied. "What's your situation?"

"We took care of the GOOhNs; but a hit took out our navigation systems. We're RTB."

"Can you find your way back?" Sophia demanded, instantly concerned. "With your nav systems down, you'll be..."

"We'll be fine." Raptor burst through to the surface, and took to the air once again. "Just get back to the _Archangel;_ we'll be right behind you."

"You'd better," his sister muttered grimly. "Okay, we'll see you back at the ship."

"Roger that." The pilot shut off the radio.

"You sure we can make it?" Cagalli asked quietly. "We've gotten quite a ways from the _Archangel,_ thanks to your brilliant plan; _can_ we find our way back?"

"Sure," Ken said negligently. "Nothing to it."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, Hours Later

* * *

"Any sign of them yet?" Murrue asked, for about the tenth time. 

Natarle sighed. "Not yet, Ma'am. We know they left the battle area, but nothing more than that; they could be anywhere by now."

"My fault," Mu said quietly, furious with himself. "When Falcon reported their nav systems were out, I should have turned right around and escorted them in."

"Not your fault, Mu," Sophia said tiredly. "Nobody's fault, really; but it does make me wish Falcon were a little less arrogant."

Murrue turned to her. "What do you mean, Sophia? What could that have to do with anything?"

"Simple," her friend replied, closing her eyes. "See, Falcon doesn't like to admit he's bad at _anything;_ but as a matter of fact, he has one glaring issue: he hates planets."

Natarle raised an eyebrow. "Why is that such a problem, Commander?"

"Because Falcon can't navigate in atmosphere," Sophia said bluntly. "He's spent no more than a few months out of his entire life on Earth; he can navigate at night by stellar navigation -anybody born and raised in space can- but in the daytime, he'd get lost if he went a hundred meters without navigation systems. By now," she went on, very softly, "Raptor will have run out of even reserve power, which means he and Cagalli are stranded out there in the ocean somewhere."

"Should we list them as MIA, Captain?" Natarle asked quietly, causing the Kestrel to stiffen.

Murrue shook her head. "No, Natarle, not yet; I won't give up on them that easily. Raptor is too valuable... and I will _not_ leave two good people behind!"

The entire Bridge crew winced, and then Mir looked over at Tonomura. "What does 'MIA' mean?" she asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

The sonar operator's voice was equally soft, his face grim. "It's a military designation that means Missing In Action," he told her.

"But," Sophia chimed in, voice leaden, "what it usually means is that they're dead, and we just haven't found enough pieces to prove it. Usually... we never do."

"It's too early to make that assumption," Murrue said firmly. "I'm not giving up on them without searching as long as we can. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Natarle said quickly; even on the occasions when she disagreed with the Captain -and this wasn't one of them- she knew better than to continue the argument when the older woman used _that_ tone. "Shall I have the Strike get ready for launch?"

"Yes; but let me talk to him first."

Without waiting for instructions, Mir linked the Strike with the Bridge. _"Kira here,"_ came the young pilot's voice. _"I'm ready to launch."_

Murrue was gratified by his willingness, but she knew he couldn't be as rested as he sounded. "Sorry to send you out there again so soon," she apologized (Kira's battle with the ZnO, while ultimately triumphant, had been far more difficult than the rest of the battle). "If I could, I'd send someone else; but..."

_"I understand, Captain,"_ Kira replied. _"Our only other mobile suit is the one I'm about to go look for, right? It has to be done."_

"I'm glad you understand. But remember, Kira, it's getting late; I want you back here in-" she checked the time "-no more than two hours. If you haven't found them by an hour after sunset, we'll wait until morning. I'm sure they'll be fine until then."

_"Understood."_ Kira nodded; though inwardly, he was quite willing to carry on the search as long as necessary. Ken was his friend, mentor, and, to a certain extent, moral compass; Cagalli was a very good friend, and perhaps the only one who truly understood what he was going through. _"I'm ready to go."_

"Very well." Murrue nodded at his image. "Go ahead, Kira."

_"Kira Yamato, heading out."_

"I only hope he's in time..." Sophia whispered.

* * *

Indian Ocean, Deserted Island, Two Hours Earlier

* * *

In Raptor's battered, darkened cockpit, Cagalli groggily raised her head. _What... happened...? Where am I?_ She couldn't remember... 

Then she saw, in the seat in front of her, the slumped figure in the slate-gray flightsuit, and memory came flooding back. "That's right," she whispered, in a voice cracked from disuse. "We crashed..."

_They'd been back in the sky for several minutes before Cagalli noticed, in the reflection on the display, the increasingly tense expression on Ken's face. "Is there something wrong?" she asked, concerned._

_"Maybe," the pilot replied. "I'm an idiot," he added. "Should have known better than to try to find my way back on my own, with no navigation systems..."_

_She stared at him. "You mean we're lost."_

_"That's exactly what I mean." Ken quietly cursed himself. "Thing is, I don't like planets; I'm spent no more than a few months on Earth in my entire life. Which means... that during the day, I have no idea how to find my way around."_

_Cagalli closed her eyes. "So you have no idea where we are."_

_"Not even the slightest clue," he agreed. "And thanks to that- Wait a second; there's something else up here. It looks like..."_

_There was a ZAFT mobile suit transport dead ahead, apparently unaware of their presence. Typical of its type, it was big, lumbering, and slow; and also a big, fat target._

_"Where do you think _that's _going?" Cagalli asked, already checking her targeting systems. "For that matter, what's it doing out here?"_

_"As to your second question, I have no idea. The first..." Ken frowned. "Probably going to Carpentaria; which means if we follow it, we'll get a vague idea of where we are. Unfortunately, that's fairly useless, since Carpentaria's defenses would shoot us down in a heartbeat... and it still wouldn't tell us where the _Archangel _is." He narrowed his eyes, considering. "Whatever it's carrying may be intended to go after the _Archangel_. Therefore... get ready to fire."_

_She hesitated. "You're willing to take them out?"_

_"I thought I told you: the most important thing to me is the protection of the PLANTs; and I'm convinced _Archangel _is the key to doing that. Ergo, anything that threatens _Archangel _threatens the safety of the PLANTs." He tightened his grip on the controls. "Fire when ready."_

_Cagalli armed the weapons under her control, and waited impatiently for a target lock. "Just give me a few seconds..."_

_By this time, the transport had obviously noticed them; and realized that it stood no chance of escaping with its cargo still aboard. The only way they could possibly get away would be if they dumped whatever mobile suit they were carrying; and that was also the only way the mobile suit would get out intact._

_Ken dropped back a little when he saw the big aircraft's cargo doors open, then blinked in surprise when he saw what fell out. "That's the Aegis," he murmured. "The Le Creuset team is out here somewhere..."_

_"I've got a lock," Cagalli called. "I'm taking the shot."_

_"Go for it."_

_Beams of coherent light shot out from the beam cannons, blowing away a good chunk of the transport's cargo area; but it wasn't sufficient to instantly knock it out of the sky, and the aircraft had defensive weapons of its own, in the form of gun turrets._

_Ordinarily, they'd have been useless against Raptor; but they already had a chink in their armor from the GOOhN attack, and the transport's guns ripped into that weakness._

_Ken cursed, struggling with the flight controls. "That's not good," he said grimly. "We're losing power, fast." He noticed the enemy aircraft was getting away, but that didn't particularly matter anymore. "Let it go; we can't waste any more power... Blast."_

_"What is it?" Cagalli demanded._

_The ace looked at the small island ahead. "Brace for impact," he said, voice calm as ever. "We just ran out of power; and there's one thing I _do _know about mobile suit performance in atmosphere."_

_She was afraid to ask, but did so anyway. "What's that?"_

_"They glide like bricks."_

_The ground was rushing up at them now, and Cagalli braced herself. There was a tremendous impact, then darkness..._

Now Cagalli had regained consciousness, but it appeared her pilot had not; so she unstrapped, and climbed down next to his seat. "Ken?" she said softly, touching his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

There was no response; the ace simply sat there, unmoving, with only the slow rise and fall of his chest to indicate that he was even alive. Clearly, he was out like a light, and would remain so for some time longer. That left any action up to her.

She hated to leave him there, but there wasn't really anything she could, so she reached past, hit the manual hatch release, and stepped out into the sunlight. "I'll be back soon, Ken," she told her unconscious partner. "Don't worry, 'kay?"

Cagalli drew her sidearm, checked the chamber, and jumped down onto the island's sand.

* * *

Athrun Zala pulled himself out of Aegis' cockpit, cursing softly. "Of all the things to go wrong that no one could have predicted," he muttered. "What on earth was the Grimaldi Falcon doing out in the middle of the ocean?" 

Now, because of that fiendishly-effective pilot, Athrun was stranded on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere, and it would be at least an hour yet before his transport could even get in range to tell anyone about it!

"First thing to do," he told himself, "is scout around, make sure nothing else is around, and find someplace to spend the night." He doubted a rescue party could be sent before morning, so he planned to be as secure as possible while he waited.

_At least I should be alone here,_ he thought. _That machine had to have gotten away; I don't believe a transport could have shot _him _down._

Athrun knew the Grimaldi Falcon, slightly; he'd flown against him a couple of times in simulators, and run into him a few times during visits home. For some reason he had never quite figured out, the ace had, after Endymion, become almost his father's shadow; some kind of important strategist, according to the rumors, but nobody knew for sure.

He walked a few meters away from the Aegis, carefully observing his surroundings. Just because he didn't expect any _human_ difficulties didn't mean he wasn't aware of the potential for inimical animal life. Best to be cautious; particularly since he'd never been to Earth before.

The ZAFT pilot had gone about ten meters from his machine before he noticed movement on a small cliff above.

Cagalli spotted _him_ at about the same moment, and raised her pistol. It was a ZAFT flightsuit, in standard colors, and the mobile suit near him was the Aegis; that told her everything she needed to know.

She didn't remember, just then, that she knew _exactly_ who the Aegis' pilot _was._

Athrun grunted in pain as the bullet struck him in the arm, forcing him to drop his own sidearm, and he leapt away. _Who _is _that?_ It wasn't the Grimaldi Falcon, so who...? It didn't really matter. What he needed to do now was get under cover, so he sprinted away, out of sight.

Cagalli fired a few more shots, just to make her target cautious, before carefully climbing down to the beach. "A ZAFT pilot, here," she whispered, cautiously making her way to the dropped autopistol. "He must be the one we shot down..."

Curious, she picked up the gun; it seemed to be of a different sort from the one Ken used. Different enough to keep her attention focused on it a moment too long...

Athrun leapt from hiding, a switchblade in his hand, and rushed at her, zigzagging to avoid her sudden, frantic fire. _You're going down!_

She cried out as he tackled her, knocking her to the ground. _No!_ The pilot raised his knife, ready for the killing blow...

Athrun felt something hit him in the side, and he went flying into a nearby boulder. "What the-!"

Cagalli almost gasped in relief when she saw what had happened: a gray-clad figure, face bruised but otherwise apparently intact, had shoulder-tackled her enemy, and now he stared coldly through his visor at the ZAFT pilot; in his hand was a drawn katana, alloy blade gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

Athrun, too, recognized the figure, and his stomach clenched. _I was wrong,_ he thought. _Commander DiFalco _didn't _get away._ Slowly, carefully, he reached for his gun, which had landed near him...

Ken didn't even blink when the bullets started coming his way. His blade moved in a blur as he advanced, deflecting the lead harmlessly away. "That was foolish, Athrun Zala," he said coldly. "Never try to shoot me... and if you so much as touch my partner again, I'll kill you. Actually," he added after a moment's consideration, "I may do so anyway; I don't know that I can trust you not to try to stab either of us in the back." To Cagalli's surprise, he raised his blade...

Athrun, thinking fast, realized his only chance. "Honor's not in the weapon," he said quickly.

The sword paused. "It's in the man," Ken said with a nod, curious that one of his own maxims had been quoted at him. "Got something to say, Zala?"

The ZAFT pilot knew he was on slippery ground here. His only chance for survival rested on the Grimaldi Falcon's peculiar honor code, said to be the only thing that might sway him from an action deemed "for the protection of the PLANTs".

"Nobody needs to die here today," Athrun said carefully, relying on Falcon's reluctance to kill ZAFT soldiers. "If there's to be any fighting, let it be hand to hand; the winner walks away, the loser agrees not to stab him in the back."

Ken considered that. "I believe," he said after a moment, "that in the business world that is what is known as a 'win-win deal'." He pulled off his helmet. "Very well, Zala; you seem to be a more honorable man than your father. Come at me."

The two pilots faced each other, bowed, and settled into martial arts stances. Ken had an advantage over his opponent: he knew Athrun's military record, and so was aware that, though he had taken the requisite close-combat training, he hadn't spent his life practicing. The Grimaldi Falcon, on the other hand...

Cagalli stared at them in bemusement. _What's the point in doing this at all, if the result is the same no matter who wins?_ Then, suddenly, she understood. _Of course. Neither of them intends to mention that they even ran into each other when they're rescued... but if it does become known, they can save face by saying that they did at least _try _to defeat each other..._

Another of Ken's brilliant plans, she realized sourly. She hoped this one would turn out better than the last, which had gotten them stranded here in the first place.

Ken had sunk his blade point-first into the ground; now he stood ready, fists loosely closed, for the match to begin. _This is ridiculous,_ he thought inwardly. _Is this a war or a contest?_ Still, he could see what Athrun was getting at; and he respected the younger man enough to grant him the cover story, how flimsy, should it be needed.

Athrun, growing impatient and knowing in the back of his mind that he was probably going to lose anyway, made the first move, a hard punch that Ken caught on his forearm. The ace responded with a sweep-kick, which Athrun jumped, then rolled away from the blue-haired pilot as he landed.

To Cagalli, it was mostly a blur of fists and feet; at one moment, it was Athrun who took a hit and went down, then it was Ken who knocked the ZAFT pilot flying. _To completely understand it, you have to be participating,_ she thought, then ducked as Athrun went flying over her head in a most uncontrolled manner.

The pilot's head impacted on a tree trunk, and he lay there for several moments, dazed. _Note to self,_ he thought muzzily. _Don't ever attempt to best the Grimaldi Falcon in martial arts again._

Ken walked over, ignoring the twinge in his chest. "Do you yield, Athrun Zala?"

Athrun nodded gratefully. "I yield."

"Good. Then-"

The ace broke off, eye going wide, and clutched his chest. _No! Not now!_ To Athrun's utter confusion, he wheeled around, and staggered toward a nearby cave. "Keep an eye on him," he gasped to Cagalli, and stumbled away; his breathing was growing ragged.

"What's wrong with him?" Athrun asked of his erstwhile enemy.

Cagalli shook her head. "I have no idea; but I'm going to find out. You stay here," she ordered, and ran after her partner.

The command was quite unnecessary. Even if he'd been able to stand up, he wasn't inclined to risk getting sliced in half again.

By the time Cagalli caught up with him in the cave, Ken's breathing was becoming _very_ labored, and he was scrabbling at the fastener of his flightsuit.

"Ken, what's wrong with you?"

He didn't answer immediately. "My belt," he gasped instead. "Power packs... belt pouch... get one out for me..."

She complied, just as he managed to open his flight suit. The pilot tore away a piece of his shirt... revealing a metal plate covering the left side of his chest. He took the power pack from her, and jabbed a lead from it directly into a socket imbedded in the plate.

Soon, Ken's breathing started to regularize, and his muscles began to relax. "That's... much better..." he wheezed, slumping against the cave wall.

"What happened?" Cagalli asked gently. "It has something to do with why you plug your flightsuit into your machine's power supply, doesn't it?"

"Yeah..." He looked up at her with a tired smile. "I left my heart at Endymion Crater."

"Wha...?"

"They say... that there were five survivors of Endymion, among the Gray Demons." He shook his head. "Actually, there were only four. I... I was caught in the Cyclops; ripped into my CGUE, set off a secondary explosion in the cockpit, and shredded my heart and one of my lungs. By the time a rescue party got to me... I was dead." Ken coughed, rubbing his chest. "They managed to revive me, hooked me up to life-support gear, and got to work replacing what I'd lost. Within a few days, I was good as new... almost."

Cagalli shook her head, confused. "But... if you got it fixed, then why...?"

"I have a very rare blood type," he replied. "As far as I know, Mu is the only man alive who could donate organs to me without certain tissue rejection; so they had to use mechanical replacements. Unfortunately, mine are of an earlier generation than Victor Tempest's, so there are... problems with the power supply. Usually, they run off my body's own bio-electric field; but when the tension mounts, and my heart rate and breathing pick up..."

She nodded slowly. "Your prosthetics can't keep up with the power demands."

"Exactly; that's why I hook myself up to my mobile suit's power supply during battle." Ken managed a weak chuckle. "Usually, I attach one of those portable power packs when I go into battle on the ground; that's what I did in Banadiya, for example. But this time, I was still so groggy from the crash that I kind of forgot..."

Cagalli sighed. "You mean to tell me that you need a constant supply of power to your heart, and you... just... forgot?"

"I'm not infallible," he protested. "Just brilliant."

She covered her eyes with her hand. "You keep saying that... and every time, it seems to be just before something goes wrong." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Come on; we'd better go check on that guy before he does something he shouldn't, like try to take off and shoot us."

"He won't do that," Ken told her, standing. "One: he gave his word, and I trust that. Two..." He held up his pocket computer. "It just so happens that I know the self-destruct code for the Aegis. If he steps out of line, I can transmit it..."

"And blow us all to smithereens." Cagalli snorted. "Brilliant plan."

* * *

Indian Ocean

* * *

While Mu flew a search pattern of his own in Skygrasper One, Kira swept along under the waves in the Strike. _Come on, you guys... Cagalli, Falcon, where _are _you?_

He couldn't figure out how they could possibly have gotten so far away. He knew, of course, that by the time Raptor made contact with the Skygraspers, it was well out to sea, having lured a pair of GOOhNs a safe distance from the _Archangel._ What he _couldn't_ figure out was how they'd managed to head in the exact wrong direction on their return course.

_Why didn't they just follow Commander La Flaga?_ Kira wondered. _They knew where _he _was, didn't they?_ He sighed. Like Sophia had said, it was probably directly linked to Falcon's abysmal planetary navigational skills; quite likely the interference the Earth's electromagnetic field had imposed on the radio signal had confused him. _And now I have to try to find them, before something happens..._

It didn't help that Cagalli was headstrong, and Falcon supremely confident in his own skills. There was no end to the trouble those two could get into together; it was one reason he worried whenever Cagalli went up into battle with his mentor.

Kira sighed again. He was running low on power, and he'd already stayed out an hour past the time Murrue had told him to return. "I guess I should get going..." he muttered, and turned back the way he'd come. "Falcon, Cagalli... be careful, okay?"

The night closed in, and soon this patch of ocean was empty once again.

* * *

Indian Ocean, Deserted Island

* * *

Night had fallen, and the three inhabitants of the small island had built a fire in the cave where Ken had collapsed. There was little they could do for now; Ken had permitted Athrun to board the Aegis long enough to launch a distress buoy, while Cagalli did the same from Raptor, so now there little to do but wait for rescue. 

After a long silence, Athrun stirred and looked up from the fire. "Commander..."

Ken looked up from his own thoughts. "Hm? Some thing you want to say, Zala?"

The ZAFT pilot nodded. "Yeah... I just want to ask you: how is... Kira?" He knew that the ace would know of his friendship with the Strike pilot, so he saw no reason to hide it.

Cagalli glanced up, startled, before remembering what Kira had told her, days before. _This is his best friend,_ she realized. _I should have remembered..._

"He's fine, Athrun," Ken said, in answer to the question. "Physically, anyway; a girl by the name of Flay Allster is currently attempting to manipulate him, but I'm keeping an eye on the situation... and making sure she has less success than she'd like."

"I see." Athrun nodded to himself. "I appreciate it."

Cagalli frowned. "But... aren't you two enemies now?"

"Doesn't mean we don't care about each other's safety," he said quietly. "I don't want to fight him at all; so it's good to hear he's okay. Even if he is being manipulated into fighting for the Earth Forces."

"He's not fighting for the Earth Forces, Athrun," Ken told him. "He's fighting for his friends, that's all; nothing more, and nothing less."

Athrun had been through this argument already, with Lacus, and didn't want to rehash the same old talking points, so he changed the subject... slightly. "So what are _you_ fighting for, Commander?" he asked. "Why fight alongside the Earth Forces?"

The ace was silent for a long time. "The roots of it go back a long time, Athrun," he said at last. "But the catalyst... Just how much do you know about your father's long-range plans, anyway?"

Athrun shrugged. "Not much, really; I'm just a pilot, and I prefer not to play the patronage game."

"That's a mark in your favor, Athrun," Ken said approvingly. "But because of it, I suppose you don't know about the Shiva Option."

The ZAFT pilot frowned. "The Shiva Option? That sounds like..."

"Yes, it started out as one of my plans." The ace leaned back against the rock wall. "Just like the abortive Operation Guillotine. Anyway, the Shiva Option was originally -actually, I guess it still is- the ultimate plan for winning this war." He looked at the younger man oddly. "What is ZAFT's mission?" he said softly.

Athrun blinked at the apparent non sequitur. "The defeat of the Naturals, of course..."

"No," Ken said sharply. "That is _not_ the mission."

"Wha...?"

"The _mission,_ Athrun Zala, is the protection of the PLANTs." Ken's eye blazed with an inner fire. "The purpose of the Revolution was -and remains- to obtain complete autonomy for the PLANTs; the genetic code of the enemy is completely irrelevant. Need I remind you that our allies on Earth are Naturals? I've flown with mobile armor pilots from Oceania, and believe me, they are every bit as devoted to the cause as we are."

Athrun nodded thoughtfully. "When you put it that way, I guess it makes sense... but what does that have to do with my father?"

Ken sighed. "Just this: the original Shiva Option had, as its centerpiece, a device known as GENESIS. I won't tell you what exactly that is -it's better if _nobody_ else has to know- but suffice it to say that its original purpose is far different from the one your father would put it to. Patrick's version of the Shiva Option also involves GENESIS; but instead of simple victory, he desires something far, far more permanent." He looked the blue-haired pilot straight in the eye. "Patrick desires the extermination of all Naturals."

Athrun violently shook his head. "No way! That isn't possible! Not my father!"

Cagalli looked from one to the other. "Falcon, are you sure you should...?"

The pilot glanced at her. "He needs to know, Cagalli." He turned back to the ZAFT pilot. "Athrun," he said gently, "remember the Bloody Valentine. You lost your mother there; your father lost his wife. Think about what that can do to a man; what the pursuit of vengeance can do."

"But still..." Athrun couldn't believe what he was hearing. In fact, he _didn't_ believe it. "My father... he'd never..." Yet the seeds of doubt had been sown...

"I don't expect you to believe me, Athrun," Ken told him. "I'm not even asking you to. I'm just asking you to think about it. And, the next time you see your father... ask him. I don't think he realizes that not everyone shares his views, so he may tell you outright; he admitted it to _me_ readily enough, the day before I deserted. That's... that's pretty much why I'm out here. Well, not _here,"_ he amended, glancing around the cave they were. "But you know what I mean."

"It seems... out of character for you to do something so impulsive," Athrun remarked, turning to a less emotionally-charged topic. "First you desert, than you join the legged ship..."

"I'll be the first to admit I acted hastily last September," Ken said candidly. "If I'd been a little smarter, we might not be in this situation to begin with. But joining the _Archangel..._ there I had little choice. It was the only way off Heliopolis, and from there, I knew I could know longer wait out the war in peace." He smiled, very slightly, and closed his eye. "As for the rest... do you really think I don't still have a plan in the works?"

Before Athrun could think of a response, the legendary pilot was asleep; so he turned to Cagalli, instead. "Has he been talking like that the whole time since joining the legged ship?"

She shrugged. "As long as _I've_ known him, anyway; I don't understand everything he's talking about, either, but he _does_ seem to have some kind of plan going on. And he has an easy time getting people to believe him when he says he's still protecting the PLANTs; he even got the Desert Tiger to pass on a message for him."

He sat up. "What kind of message?"

Cagalli shrugged again. "Beats me; he didn't tell me, and I wouldn't tell _you_ if he had."

"Hm; guess you have a point." Athrun leaned back against the wall. "I guess... I should get some sleep." He smiled a little. "You going to keep watch or something, to make sure I don't kill him in his sleep?"

She laughed. "Zala, if you tried that, I have the feeling his little computer would notice it, and trigger your machine's self-destruct sequence."

"Oh." He mulled over that. "You're probably right," he conceded, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Indian Ocean, Deserted Island, March 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

Athrun was awakened the next morning by Ken's soft voice; it didn't surprise him that the ace was already awake. "You might want to go check the Aegis, Athrun; something in there is going off. I think your buoy picked up a signal." 

He was instantly on his feet and running for his machine, while Cagalli stretched. "Good news?" she asked her partner.

"Possibly," Ken replied. "At least it'll mean _he'll_ be out of our hair."

In the Aegis' cockpit, Athrun fiddled with the radio until a voice came over the speakers. _"Athrun, it's Nicol; do you copy? Athrun, are you there?"_

"Right here, Nicol," Athrun replied, grinning. "I'm glad to hear you."

_"I bet; must have been a long night. Anyway, I have your signal and I'm on my way in."_ Nicol paused. _"By the way, Dearka wants to know if you saw any sign of Commander DiFalco while you were out there."_

The blue-haired pilot paused. "Tell him I'll talk to him face-to-face," he said finally. "I think he'll understand."

_"Roger that."_

Athrun climbed back down to the beach. "You two might want to return to your side of the island," he told the pair. "There's a ZAFT rescue party coming, and I'm not sure you'll want to be around here for it."

"Probably not," Ken agreed. "I'm told there are 'shoot on sight' orders out regarding me now."

The ZAFT pilot didn't bother asking where he'd heard it; presumably, he had sources in the PLANTs still. "It was... interesting meeting you," he said to Cagalli. "Maybe we'll meet again."

"Maybe," Cagalli agreed. "But hopefully, not on the battlefield."

"Agreed." Athrun turned to the ace. "Commander, I don't know whether to say it was nice seeing you again; but I'll tell you this: I'll think about what you told me. I still think you're wrong about my father... but you may not be wrong about the entirety of ZAFT." The prospect troubled him. "Is there anyone who could tell me more?"

Ken considered that. "If you're looking for people you can trust unquestioningly -and if you'll believe me- then seek out what's left of my team. They've got good sources, and can tell you some things you won't hear anywhere else. For that matter, they probably know more than _I_ do, right now." He saluted the younger pilot. "Till we meet again, Athrun Zala."

Athrun returned the salute. "Good luck, Commander... I think." He turned, and walked off to his machine to await Nicol Amalfi's arrival.

The other two castaways slowly walked back toward their own mobile suit. "He seemed like a decent guy," Cagalli remarked.

"He is," Ken replied. "A far better man than his father. I only hope that he'll realize the truth before this war claims him, too."

She looked at him sidelong. "So, what _is_ GENESIS?"

"Something you never, ever want to know the details of," he told her. "And something I really don't like to talk about."

The girl accepted that; with someone already under a lot of stress, she preferred not to press the issue. So silence reigned, until they reached the beach where they'd crashed.

That was when Cagalli caught sight of the Strike, rising out of the water nearby. "The Strike!" she shouted, grinning. _"Kira!"_

* * *

Author's note: The Morassim team has been wiped out, and Falcon and Cagalli have met Athrun on a deserted island in the Indian Ocean; meanwhile, Preybird inches toward completion… 

Soon, the _Archangel_ will enter the Orb Union, and more of Falcon's master plan will be revealed…

NukeDawg, as a matter of fact, I know rather more about the Dreadnought now; and upon further reflection, I'm pretty sure it _won't _be appearing in Birds of a Feather. You see, it's my understanding that the Dreadnought is supposed to be the prototype for the other ZAFT Gundams; and in this version, that role has effectively been supplanted by the Preybird.

No doubt I will find the machines appearing later in your story interesting; I'll be keeping an eye out.

As for Hyperion, check further in last chapter's notes: I finally figured there was no point in being cagey about it anymore, so I actually stated that Sophia will be the pilot… much later in the story, of course.

Deathzealot, I am aware that a lot of people use the term "Clyne Faction" generically; it's just that I prefer to be more exact. Personal quirk, I suppose. Anyway, glad you liked the chapter; I wasn't sure what kind of reception that one would get.

Storm Wolf77415, you might say it's something like that… Glad you approved of the chapter.

Ominae, may as well point out here that if it's anime and it ain't Gundam, I haven't seen it. I have little interest in anime at large, and the only Gundam I've seen much of is G Gundam and SEED; the only series I'm _interested_ in -that have come to the States, at any rate- are SEED and Wing.

Infinite Freedom, the Death Blossoms are _not_ going on Sophia's machine; I see that I at least retain my talent for confusing people. No, that will not be revealed quite yet…

Hadn't thought of the notion of equipping machines such as the Buster or Strike with nuclear reactors, but now that you mention it, Falcon's people would probably have the capability to do it. They're already having to build an N-jammer Canceler for the Preybird, after all, so I suppose it's a possibility.

I also hadn't thought of having Mu use the IWSP or Lightning Striker, but those are interesting ideas. There would be one problem with the IWSP, however: according to some things I've read, the Integrated-Weapons Striker Pack is compatible _only_ with the Strike Rouge; something to do with the power extender, I think. Of course, giving the Strike a nuclear reactor would solve that problem, wouldn't it…

Nope, Huckebein does _not_ pilot a ZnO; for one thing, you'll notice I have a preference for putting him in less common machines, such as the CGUE DEEP Arms. Don't know yet what he'll be flying next, though, or even when his next appearance in battle will be.

Rather odd that the Forbidden Blue would have finished testing before they completed testing for the standard model; and Sutherland certainly implies rather strongly that the Forbidden and its brothers are not yet ready for combat at the time that the _Archangel_ reaches Alaska.

Yeah, I figured it would be interesting if Kira found out earlier about Cagalli's true identity; a minor point, but interesting.

As for Flay, it annoyed me that she interrupted when she did, so I figured that would be a good time for another one of Falcon's hacking stunts; I'm not surprised it was a popular moment.

Farm7455, to answer your questions, yes, Le Creuset will be piloting Providence; I have quite the epic final battle planned around that. No, I don't think the Regenerate will be appearing; I really don't know how it would fit. I actually have read about that machine, so I'm aware it has a rather limited role before being taken apart by the Astray prototypes. Finally, as regards Nicol… we'll see. Let me simply say that I have some… interesting plans in mind.

Easy-Company-506-101, Cagalli is not going to be flying the F-7D at all (its very minor role comes later) and you saw here when the scene would occur. I agree that it's an important scene; though what it led to rather irritated me.

Centurious, glad you liked it; as I said, I wasn't sure how it would be received. I'm pleasantly surprised by the reaction.

As a matter of fact, I was already planning to have Tempest pilot a Tactical Air Reconnaissance GINN even before you mentioned it; but I found the suggestion about beam sabers quite useful. Thanks.

Lipana, I'm not sure if you were agreeing with me on the uniform thing, but for everyone who's been arguing with me about it, let point out this (something which, for some reason, _I_ didn't remember until recently): Andy Waltfeld wears a striped flightsuit in SEED Phase 21, and Aisha also wears one I haven't seen elsewhere.

Having heard both the English and Japanese versions of Lacus' songs, by the way, I must say that I don't really care one way or the other. Frankly, my main concern is being able to understand what they're saying, and given that my Japanese is virtually nil…

Depressed suicidal writer, I guess I'm not surprised; I wasn't expecting people to like it much at all, so at least it was better than I expected.

As I said before, I'll be keeping an eye out for your story; I'm always watching for interesting SEED fics.

Max summers, to be perfectly honest, _I_ prefer Kevin Walker, too; with his checkered past and cybernetic enhancements, I find him quite enjoyable to write. Well, fear not; Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms should be up within the next couple of months.

Bremics, thanks for the suggestion; but since it'll be the Gray Demons building the machine anyway, -as hinted at in Chapter 17- it isn't really necessary to find a "canon" solution.

Thanks also for pointing out the discrepancy with Falcon's Lessons, by the way; if memory serves, "Friendly fire isn't" should have been Lesson _Five,_ not _Thirty_-five. I'll go back and correct that soon.

Shinji Ikari, it is a welcome change to read a review from you that isn't critiquing something; usually, when I see a review alert of any real size, my blood runs cold. Not your fault, of course; it just means I screwed up royally. Nice to see I've been doing a better job this time around.

Anyway, I rather thought the "Newtype" theory was something like that; I mean, you'd think that something like that, if official, would have been mentioned _somewhere_ in the actual series. It's an interesting notion, I suppose, but the official website says only that Mu's powers of spatial awareness are greater than normal. Besides, like you said, what would be the point of having Newtypes in a series with Coordinators? (I haven't actually seen anything in the Universal Century, but, like you, I've done a great deal of research; and personally, I always thought the Turn A theory rather ridiculous.)

About the fact that Gundam SEED is supposed to be a reinvention of the original Mobile Suit Gundam: that's something that always bothers me about people who keep complaining that SEED is too much like the original series. I mean, why complain when it's _supposed_ to be similar? Just one of those things that gets on my nerves…

As a matter of fact, the only information about the Gerbera Straight that you mentioned that I was unaware of is the fact that it can be used on Phase-shift-equipped machines (which, by the way, is _very_ useful information). The rest I'd learned through my own research, including the giant Gerbera Straight. Frankly, I question the useful of a sword that big -aside from, say, the METEOR beam sabers- but I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, thanks for the extra info; since Preybird will have that particular weapon, I'm sure it'll come in handy.

Well, well, well… author's notes consisting of fewer than two thousand words. That doesn't happen very often anymore. Well, let me know if it was any good. -Solid Shark


	20. Chapter 20: Flight of the Phoenix

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, March 23rd, C.E. 71

* * *

Alarms rang throughout the _Archangel,_ summoning the crew to battlestations, as four mobile suits approached the so-called "legged ship".

Murrue gritted her teeth, tense. They were close to Orb Union territory now, so no one aboard, not even the ever-scheming Ken DiFalco, had thought that ZAFT would attack them. If they strayed across the border, Orb would hit them with overwhelming force, and the ZAFT commander _had_ to know it. Phase-shift or no, even G-weapons could be swamped with enough firepower.

And it _was_ G-weapons that they were facing. The Aegis, Blitz, Buster, and Duel were coming straight for the ship, riding Guul subflight units. That mean _Archangel_ was in for a fight; but at least both of _their_ mobile suits were fully operational now, along with the pair of Skygraspers. It didn't hurt that the Aile Striker had finally been repaired, so now their entire mobile weapon complement was flight-capable again.

"Raptor and Strike report ready for launch, Ma'am," Mir called from CIC. "Commanders La Flaga and DiFalco are prepared to follow them out."

"Understood. Tell them to launch immediately."

"Yes, Ma'am." She turned back to her console. "Kira, Falcon, launch your machines at once."

_"Roger that,"_ Kira replied, and hit the launch controls; his X105 Strike went flying out of the catapult at high speed, propelling him out onto the battlefield.

_"Grimaldi Falcon here,"_ the other pilot said, saluting; behind him, in her accustomed position, was Cagalli. _"Raptor, heading out."_

"Set Igelstellungs to point-defense mode," Natarle ordered. "Ready the Valiants and Gottfrieds, and load all missile tubes." She set her jaw. "This time, try to take them out."

* * *

Near Orb Union Border

* * *

"There is one good thing about this situation," Ken remarked almost idly. "This time, we're not dealing with submarines."

"Yeah," Cagalli agreed fervently. "If I never meet another underwater mobile suit again, it'll be too soon." She frowned abruptly. "By the way, did you ever figure out what blew up that last _Vosgulov?"_

"Not with any certainty," he replied evasively; actually, he had a pretty good idea of what had done it, but he wasn't about to admit that he had allies in the area. They might be able to help in this situation, but then again they might not, and he didn't want to engender false hope. "Anyway, I don't think we need mysterious deus ex machina types to bail us out today."

"You hope," she muttered. "Hey, Kira!" she called. "You ready for this?"

"As ready as I ever am," Kira replied. "We have to stop them, don't we?"

"Yeah; we're all that stands between _Archangel_ and this ZAFT team." Cagalli bit her lip. "Kira... we might be able to get some assistance here, in a little bit."

On her screen, Kira nodded. "I know. But I wouldn't count on it; there's too much at stake to trust in something like that."

"Yeah..."

Ken shot her a suspicious glance. _What on earth are they talking about?_ He might have been less confused were it not for the fact the _he_ was used to being the one who dropped cryptic hints and plotted hidden schemes. _Forget it; there are more important matters at hand._ He keyed his radio, setting it for a ZAFT frequency.

In the Buster, Dearka winced, hearing the distinctive hunting call. "I figured you'd be out here, Falcon," he said quietly. "Are you willing to give up?"

"And let you and your friends take out _Archangel?_" Ken shook his head. "Never, amigo. This is far, far more important than you know."

Dearka swallowed; but it was a familiar pain by now. "Then let's go, Falcon; and hope that we're still good enough to fight each other to a stalemate."

"Indeed. One question, though: is Huckebein out here?"

He snorted a brief laugh. "Him? No way; you took out his last machine pretty thoroughly, Falcon. Right now, I hear he's still badgering Command about giving him another prototype. So no, all you have to worry about is us."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not," Ken murmured to his partner. When a shot from the Buster struck his shield, he winced. "Correction: I _know_ that's not a good thing." Raising his beam rifle, he returned fire; this wouldn't be a battle for melee combat.

* * *

Only three of the ZAFT machines were directly involved in the attack; serving as field commander for this battle, Athrun kept his Aegis circling, giving him a good view of the battle, while Nicol's Blitz attacked the _Archangel,_ Dearka's Buster dueled with the Raptor... and Yzak's Duel went straight for the Strike.

_That'll get him killed one of these days,_ Athrun thought tensely. _Kira's already a better pilot; I can see that now. If Yzak doesn't stop his reckless attacks, it'll be all over for him..._

He noticed that, unlike the Strike, the Grimaldi Falcon's machine was still going for disarming attacks, and he felt a twinge of relief. Whatever happened, Dearka would probably be safe enough; according to ELINT, DiFalco was the _Archangel_'s wing commander, which meant he likely had standing orders to leave the Buster to him.

On the other hand, his contempt for one Yzak Joule was legendary; it was unlikely Kira was operating under any such restrictions against the Duel.

As for Blitz... the _Archangel_ had more than sufficient firepower to blow Nicol to dust if he wasn't careful, and whoever the ship's combat commander was, he or she was almost as devious as the Grimaldi Falcon himself.

"Careful, Yzak," Athrun warned, seeing the Duel swoop in on the Strike. "Don't be reckless!"

"Shut up, you coward!" Yzak snapped back, not bothering to hide his resentment. "I don't need someone like you to tell me how to fight!"

_That's exactly what I'm afraid of, Yzak._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge/Near Orb Border

* * *

The ship rocked from another hit, and Natarle cursed. "Order our machines to concentrate their fire on the Guuls," she snapped. "Understood?"

Actually, Mir didn't. "Uh, Ma'am," she said hesitantly, "the 'Guuls'?"

"The subflight units the enemies are using to fly," Tonomura quickly informed her. "Take them out, and they'll drop from the sky."

"Uh, right." She activated her radio. "Falcon, Lieutenant Badgiruel says-"

_"I heard,"_ Ken said dryly. _"And I know; I used to be with ZAFT myself, remember? Tell the good Lieutenant I don't need someone micro-managing my movements, will you?"_

Natarle -fortunately for Mir- heard the remark; and, though she grimaced, she didn't reply. _Rule One: Never irritate superior officers, especially when they really_ do _know their jobs better than you do._

Outside, while Raptor and Buster exchanged shots, Kira decided it was time to take the fight to the Duel. Lifting off from his position on the _Archangel_'s forward deck, he drew a beam saber and angled straight for the enemy machine.

Yzak smiled, drawing his own blade of frozen fire. "That's more like it, Strike," he whispered. "Come on; I can't wait to kill you, for what you did to me." He'd sworn vengeance for his scar, and extract vengeance from the Strike he would.

The two machines clashed sabers midair, before the Strike used its superior mobility to dash back and around behind the Duel. _That's their weakness here,_ Kira thought, raising his blade. _They can't maneuver very well on those Guuls..._

Yzak cursed harshly. That last attack had cut off his railgun, and now the coward was running away! He switched back to his rifle, and fired impotently at the Strike, which was now landing back on the _Archangel_'s deck. "You bastard!"

Lower down, Nicol swooped down on the _Archangel,_ readying his lancer darts. "Now I've got you," he whispered, and aimed carefully.

"The Blitz is incoming!" Sai warned. "And Buster is-"

Explosions cut him off, and Natarle clenched her fists. That kinetic-penetrator attack had just blown away the starboard Valiant... and now the Buster had apparently decided it was better to ignore Raptor and take potshots at the ship's engines.

"Captain, we're nearing Orb territory," Neumann called. "Three minutes to the border."

Murrue scowled. "Adjust our course," she ordered grimly. "Skirt the edges, but do _not_ allow _Archangel_ to cross the border."

Tolle spun in his chair. "But, Captain! Why?"

"This is an Earth Forces vessel, Crewman Koenig," she replied, eyes on the battle. "Orb does not permit warships from either side to enter their territory; if we cross the border, they _will_ open fire." She closed her eye for a moment. "They guard their neutrality well."

"But," Mir protested, "won't they understand our situation?"

_"Don't count on it,"_ Ken told her over the radio. _"And frankly, after Heliopolis, I wouldn't blame them."_

"Number Three engine's been hit," Sai reported. "We're down five Igelstellungs; levitators taking damage." _We can't take much more of this..._

* * *

Ken cursed, firing another shot at the Buster. "Come on, Dearka!" he shouted, self-control cracked by the situation. "If you don't stop shooting at my ship, I'll have no choice but to bring you down myself."

Dearka, who had decided the best way to capture his old friend was to shoot down _Archangel_ (and thus force Raptor to run out of power) grunted. "If you were going to do that, Falcon, you'd have done it already. If this is the only way I can make you see reason, then so be it."

"I won't allow it!" Unexpectedly, the Strike leapt from the _Archangel_'s deck, and came straight at the Buster, rifle spitting emerald death. "Just back off!"

Behind him, Yzak grinned. "Thank you, Strike," he whispered. "You just gave me a perfect shot..." He lined up on Strike's exposed back...

And suddenly, completely unexpectedly, something shot straight up out of the water, interposing itself between Duel and Strike, catching Yzak's shot on some kind of glowing shield on its left arm.

Firing stopped on both sides for a moment in sheer shock. "What _is_ that?" Murrue demanded.

Sai shook his head, over and over. "Not in the catalogue, Ma'am." He was just as confused as any by the apparition that now hung to the ship's starboard.

Mu and Sophia swooped past it, and both got good looks at the strange machine. It seemed to have the main body of the Strike, but with a crimson torso and slate-gray limbs, folded weapons of some sort on the hips, and tapering shoulders that ended in gaping holes. On its back were ten wings, glossy black, spread wide; between them was a pair of spaces where another weapon was evidently supposed to go. There were beam sabers mounted on the hips, some kind of energy shield on its left arm, and a beam rifle in either hand.

"What _is_ that thing?" Mu demanded, circling.

"I don't know," Sophia replied. "I've never seen anything like it; but I don't think it's complete..."

"Do you know what that is?" Cagalli demanded of her partner.

"I'm not sure," Ken replied, as startled as anyone by the machine's appearance; though for a different reason. "Whatever it is, though, it doesn't seem to be an enemy..."

"Is that one of ours?" Yzak demanded. "I don't know it!"

In the strange machine's peculiar cockpit, lying in the reclining pilot's couch, the pilot smiled to herself. _Yzak Joule, is it? Well, time to show you the answer to your question..._

The machine's beam rifles snapped up to firing position, and Yzak cried out in surprise and fury when they fired, blowing off both his arms. Then, before he could even react, the rifles dropped, snapped onto hard points on the outboard weapons, and the machine drew the pair of beam sabers... and moved.

Even incomplete, it was obviously more than a match for even a G-weapon. It flashed forward at speeds higher than the Strike could produce, slicing off the Duel's legs and destroying its Guul, before sweeping around at the Buster.

Dearka fired desperately at the mobile suit, even using his hyper-impulse rifle, but it shrugged off all attacks, either with Phase-shift armor or the small light-wave barrier on its arm. Before Buster could even hope to evade, the machine was on him, sabers flashing faster than a mobile suit should have been able to move. Arms, legs, head, and guns all fell toward the ocean, followed swiftly by the rest of the Buster. "No!"

_Two down,_ the pilot thought to herself. _Nicol... sorry, but you're next._

Nicol reacted on instinct, activating his Mirage Colloid in an attempt to hide himself from this new adversary, but his Guul gave away his position. The deadly apparition came at him, separated his legs from the rest of him, and let the Blitz drop into the ocean after its comrades.

Athrun stared in mingled shock and horror. _If the Earth Forces have machines like that,_ he thought numbly, _we might as well just surrender. What _is _it?_

Now it was coming after _him,_ and not with sabers. The beam rifles spat emerald darts, and Athrun's best efforts were useless against this demonic machine. His own rifle was blown away, followed swiftly by both arms and his head.

The resulting damage took down his Phase-shift, and the ZAFT pilot fully expected to be killed in the next moment; but instead, the mysterious enemy chose to back away and blast his legs off with the railguns.

_What in the world just happened?_ Athrun thought in utter confusion, falling toward the ocean. _That thing took us all down in thirty seconds..._

The machine's pilot smiled. "The Zala team won't be a threat for awhile," she whispered. "Now... I have a message to deliver."

The crimson and gray unit swivelled around, hovering in the air, to face the Raptor; and its emerald optics began to blink on and off.

Ken frowned, confused, until he realized it was Morse code. Then he began to smile, reading the message; a message no one else seemed to recognize as such. _That's good news,_ he thought to himself. _That's very good news. The plan is getting closer to completion..._

Message delivered, the interloper turned to the _Archangel_'s Bridge, saluted with a beam saber, and dove back into the water from whence it had come.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Does anyone know what just happened?"

Besides Murrue's plaintive comment, the Bridge was silent; no one had the slightest idea what had just occurred. Only a minute before, they'd been facing overwhelming odds; now, with the intervention of just a single, unknown mobile suit, they were in the clear.

"Levitators damaged!" Neumann suddenly called out. "Progressive failure from one of those hits is taking us down!"

Murrue's eyes snapped back to the forward viewport. "What's our course?" she demanded.

"Still toward the Orb border, Ma'am," Tolle replied, beginning to sweat from the tension. "We didn't have time to turn away..."

_"There's no need,"_ Cagalli snapped from Raptor's cockpit. _"Continue on course!"_

"Miss Cagalli," Murrue said tensely, "this is not the time-"

_"Quiet,"_ the girl insisted. _"Just let me talk to the Orb fleet."_

"What Orb fleet?" Sai started to ask, then blinked; there was a force of Orb Aegis ships directly ahead of the _Archangel,_ aiming weapons.

_"This is the Orb Second Escort Fleet,"_ a harsh voice said. _"You are hereby ordered to change course at once; we will not permit armed forced from either side to enter our territory. If you do not follow our instructions, we will have no choice but to open fire."_

_"This is infuriating,"_ Cagalli fumed. _"Attention, Orb fleet,"_ she snapped. _"I am hereby countermanding your orders; you _will _permit _Archangel _and all attached forces to cross the border."_

Murrue's eyes snapped to her com display upon hearing those words; she noted absently that for once Ken seemed as startled as anyone else. "Miss Cagalli, just what are you-?"

_"Who is speaking?"_ the Orb fleet commander demanded; oddly, he wasn't dismissing the peculiar demand out of hand.

_"If you don't recognize me,"_ Cagalli replied, clearly disgusted, _"then call my father; Uzumi Nara Athha will vouch for my identity."_ She glared into the screen. _"My name... is Cagalli Yula Athha. Now either obey my orders, or get confirmation from your superiors!"_

Sai's eyes went wide. "But... isn't Athha...?"

Mir nodded, eyes similarly wide. "The leader of Orb..."

While the Orb commander turned away from the screen, clearly shocked, to confer with his subordinates, Ken twisted in his seat to face his partner. _"What did you say your name was?"_ he demanded.

She smiled apologetically. _"I guess I should have told you, Ken,"_ she said quietly -Murrue twitched at hearing Falcon addressed by his true name for the first time, and suspected Sophia was feeling much the same way- and shrugged. _"But I don't think Kisaka would have been very happy with me."_

_"I already knew,"_ Kira put in, with a slight smile. _"I think you just saved us, Cagalli."_

Cagalli shook her head. _"I may have just gotten the _Archangel _to safe harbor, yes,"_ she conceded. _"But it was that stranger that saved the ship."_

Abruptly, the Orb fleet commander came on again. _"Earth Forces vessel,"_ he said curtly, _"continue on your present course; do not deviate, or you may be hit by a stray shot."_

"As if we _could_ change course," Tolle muttered, as the _Archangel_'s levitators finally gave out, dropping the ship into the waves. "We can't even stay in the air." Beside him, Neumann nodded agreement.

"What's going on?" Murrue demanded; but it was Kisaka, newly-arrived on the Bridge, who answered.

"They're going to fire on us," he said calmly. "With an off-set sufficient to cause a miss, but still make it look like an accident." he smiled. "We'll be just fine, Captain."

"I... understand..." she murmured, watching the Orb ships open fire; and, true to Kisaka's word, they missed. "So, what happens now?"

The big bodyguard shrugged. "That's up to Lord Uzumi; but I think I can safely say you can relax for awhile now. ZAFT forces won't be able to follow you across the border... even if they weren't already indisposed."

Natarle snorted at his understatement. "Was that machine one of yours?" she asked bluntly. "I know it wasn't one of _ours,_ so..."

_"It wasn't an Orb unit,"_ Cagalli assured her. _"I'm not as up-to-date on it as Kisaka, but I'd remember something like that. Besides, that thing had Phase-shift, and we haven't found a way to duplicate it yet."_

"Then who was it?" Murrue wondered. "If it wasn't Orb, and it wasn't ZAFT, then...?" _Mercenaries, perhaps? Or maybe the Junk Guild?_

She didn't know the answer. She just knew that her ship had been saved, and now they were heading for safety... for now.

* * *

_Hades,_ Hangar

* * *

Leanne Eldridge climbed out of the cockpit of ZGMF-X00A Preybird, pulled off her helmet, and grinned at the young soldier waiting for her. "That machine you built is incredible, Tom!"

Tom Delaney shrugged, though nonetheless pleased. "The Commander designed it; I just did the grunt work. Still, I'm glad it works." He smiled. "But if you thought it was good today, just wait until we give it nuclear power."

"Fantastic work out there, Leanne," Sparky Cooper rumbled. "Even better than I'd hoped; I just wish I could have done it myself."

"Yeah, well," the green-haired woman pointed out, "you wouldn't fit in the cockpit; even _I_ had a little trouble, and I'm smaller than the Boss!"

"It was also designed specifically around his dimensions," Tom reminded her. "You'd have been better off in the gunner's seat; that's more of a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. By the way," he added, "how _was_ the cockpit? I admit I was a little skeptical when the Boss first came up with it..."

"The reclining 'pilot's couch' works great," Leanne assured him. "Reminds me of an old F-16, twentieth-century vintage, that I once flew; you can take more Gs, and it's a lot more comfortable, especially on long flights. The muscles don't get so stiff. The 'cockpit pod' works well, too; it's kind of like being in a cocoon, with the inner module sealed just a few centimeters above you, and the visual data projected on the inner surface. _Much_ better visibility than a conventional cockpit; and I'd have to agree that the conventional control sticks work better than the control bars used in the Earth Forces' new machines."

Sparky nodded. "That's good to hear. So, did you have any problems in actual combat?"

She snorted. "The hard part was _not_ killing anybody; Preybird isn't designed for nonlethal combat. But I managed, and I don't think the Zala team will be bothering the Boss anytime soon."

_"Very_ good." The huge commander nodded to himself. "We tried to retrieve Buster and Blitz, by the way; since Dearka is the Boss's best friend, and Nicol's your cousin. Unfortunately, _Cousteau_ got to them first. On the plus side, I don't think they know we're out here." He turned to the engineer. "By the way, Tom, how long to complete Preybird?"

"Give me another three weeks, Sparky," Tom replied. "Just three weeks, and we can _really_ see what this baby'll do. We're already constructing the N-jammer Canceler, and we've nearly got the weapons complete." He grinned. "The forging of the Gerbera Straight is going better than expected, too; it'll be finished around the time we finish installation of the twin satellite cannon."

"What's the progress on Freedom and Justice?" Leanne put in. "And do we have a pilot for either of them?"

"No, we don't; but construction is on schedule." The gray-haired Gray Demon smiled. "We may not have as much influence over Justice as we'd prefer right now -we're still involved in the design and construction, but we don't have the total penetration we'd like- but we can... appropriate Freedom at any time."

"Excellent, Tom." Sparky rubbed his chin; as always, his face was twitching, but after years of getting used to it, he ignored it easily. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave the operation in your hands for awhile," he said after a moment. "I need to get back to the PLANTs; remember, it's still my job to protect Miss Lacus. So for now, the two of you will have to keep an eye on things."

Tom tossed off a casual salute. "Got it, Sparky; I think we'll be okay. _Archangel_ just reached Orb waters, so Patrick's people can't hurt them for now. We'll keep an eye out for trouble, though, and find some way to get Preybird to the Boss, once it's complete."

"Good."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Aft Deck

* * *

Two mobile suits stood side by side in the open air, and at their feet stood two pilots and a gunner who had turned out to be a princess. All three were tired from the recent battle, but they were still more cheerful than they might have been.

"That battle should have been a disaster," Cagalli remarked. "With those four machines going after us all at once, we shouldn't have been able to make it; but when that stranger turned up..."

"We'd have made it," Kira disputed. "It would've been tough, but I think we could have done it ourselves. We just didn't have to."

"Yeah..." She turned to bestow a suspicious look on her partner. _"You_ arranged that rescue, didn't you?" she accused. "That wasn't an Orb machine, and it wasn't Earth Forces or ZAFT, so..."

Ken wearily sank to a sitting position. "Actually," he said slowly, "I didn't." At her disbelieving snort, he went on, "I was just as surprised as you by its appearance. However..." He smiled slowly.

"'However' what, Falcon?" Kira demanded. "You _do_ know something, don't you?"

"First of all, Kira," the ace said quietly, "you can call me Ken; I don't slice people up just for using my real name. But to answer your question..." He nodded slowly. "That was one of my people, flying a mobile suit I designed; and apparently, it's even better than I'd hoped." He looked up. "I'd appreciate it if neither of you mentions that to anyone, even on the _Archangel;_ it's too easy for a slip of the tongue to betray confidences, and in this case it would cost people lives."

They both nodded; though Cagalli hesitated a moment. "What about my father?"

Ken considered that. "Him you can tell," he said at last. "Lord Uzumi already knows a certain amount of I'm planning, so this won't come as a surprise to him."

Maybe that knowledge wouldn't; but the statement _did_ come as a surprise to her. "You know my father?"

"Kind of; we've never met in person, but we... discussed some things over secure radio, when I was on my way to Heliopolis."

Kira gave him a knowing look. "And let me guess: you're not going to tell us exactly _what_ you two discussed."

"As a matter of fact... no."

The ace's companions snorted in unison; their Machiavellian friend could teach Russians a thing or two about paranoia, especially where his benighted plans were concerned. Doubtless Ken's people had a ship of some kind fairly close by; but if that were so, they knew he'd never admit it.

"We're nearing Onogoro," Cagalli said after a time, noting the distinctive island features around them. "Morgenroete has a to-secret facility there; I'm sure that's where _Archangel_ will be docked for the duration of the repairs." She glanced at her partner. "You've heard the damage reports; how long do you think it'll take to fix?"

He considered that. "Well, without examining the damage myself, I can't be certain. But, from all reports, I'd estimate three weeks, give or take. Then we'll be back on our way to Alaska: a place of bright sunshine, long nights... and enough cold to make a polar bear want to move someplace warmer."

She shook her head. "So says the man who hates planets, and got us lost because of it." That earned her a pained look, but he didn't deny it.

Soon the _Archangel_ was sliding through a massive, concealed hatch in the island's rocky cliffs, and Kira turned to Cagalli. "So," he asked quietly, "will you be leaving again with the _Archangel?"_

She suddenly appeared uncertain. "I... don't know," she said slowly. "I'd _like_ to... but my father might have other ideas, this time. You _are_ heading for JOSHUA Base, after all."

He nodded thoughtfully, but said no more; though Ken thought he detected a trace of... what? he wasn't sure... in his protégé's expression.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Later, Ken stepped onto the Bridge, much refreshed -plugging a power pack into his chestplate had worked wonders for his heart and lungs- and moved to his accustomed position at the bow. "So," he said calmly. "What happens now, Colonel Kisaka?"

Mu and Murrue glanced at him. "You knew who he was, the whole time?" the Hawk demanded.

"I knew," the ace acknowledged. "I couldn't figure out what he was doing in the Libyan desert, but I knew who he was; and with the revelation of Cagalli's identity, I guess that explains the rest of it." He looked over at the big Orb officer. "So, Colonel. What _does_ happen now?"

"I'll be taking you to Lord Uzumi Nara Athha," Kisaka replied. "I'm afraid _Archangel_'s entry into our territory has caused quite the stir."

"Well, excuse us," Sophia said sarcastically. "It's not like we could even change course right then, you know; Buster made sure of that."

"I quite understand," he said, nodding. "No one blames you; and you needn't worry _too_ much. Officially, _Archangel_ was forced to leave our territory, and is no longer anywhere near here."

"They won't believe that," Ken said matter-of-factly. "Dearka won't, anyway; he knows me too well." He assumed a rueful expression (at least, as much of one as he ever assumed). "He'll think it's one of my brilliant plans; and even if he's wrong about that, it won't change the fact that he'll believe we're here."

Kisaka shrugged. "It doesn't really matter," he said easily. "Without some kind of proof, there's little ZAFT can do about the situation. They won't risk a major diplomatic incident -or worse, open hostilities- with Orb over just a single ship. Powerful though you might be, even the PLANTs would hesitate before taking us on just over you."

"Don't be so sure," the ace warned. "I know Patrick well; and I know that he's likely to be the next Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council. If that _is_ the case, I don't doubt he'll send an attack force if he has the slightest shred of evidence we're here, even if it's just a rumor." He scowled. "I know too much, you see; and he's determined to eliminate me from the equation."

"That still gives us plenty of time to work with; and if we're careful, there shouldn't even be rumors to worry about." Kisaka smiled. "Morgenroete personnel know how to keep secrets."

"Yes..." Murrue frowned. "That still leaves the matter of that machine that saved us earlier today," she said slowly. "Just what was it?"

"It wasn't one of ours," he assured her. "As Lady Cagalli said, we do not yet know how to construct Phase-shift armor. Besides, it had a light-wave barrier, which, as far as I know, only the Eurasian Federation currently uses. We don't know how to generate one of those, either."

"Eurasian?" Natarle frowned. "Possible... except that the G-weapon Project was Atlantic Federation; I have no doubt they'd be happy to see the _Archangel_ sink to the bottom of the ocean."

Mu looked directly at Ken. "What about you, Falcon? Could that be some new ZAFT design, built from data from the units they captured?"

The pilot shrugged. "I don't know where it came from," he said (truthfully, despite his suspicions). "But it looked like it was based off the Strike."

"I think you're right," Sophia agreed, after a moment's thought. "Makes sense; it's a very versatile design. But that machine was obviously incomplete. Who would send an incomplete machine out to help us... and why couldn't they complete it first...?"

Ken knew the answers to both questions, but chose not to speak; he'd said too much already, to Kira and Cagalli. _No,_ he thought. _Now is not the time; but I _had _best discuss it with Lord Uzumi. The day may be coming sooner than we thought..._

"Well," Kisaka put in, "I believe it's time I took you to see Lord Uzumi; I'm sure he's waiting for you all." He looked at the ace. "I assume you're coming, Commander?"

"He's an officer of this ship," Murrue replied before he could. "He comes along."

The colonel didn't need to see Ken's agreeing nod to know arguing about it would be a bad idea.

* * *

Onogoro Island, Conference Room

* * *

Hours later, the five officers from the _Archangel_ filed into the conference room, where one man already awaited them.

"Welcome," Lord Uzumi Nara Athha greeted. "I assume you are the officers of the ship we so recently granted entrance to our territory?" His voice revealed nothing of his feelings on the matter, or his intent; which left Murrue somewhat tense.

"Yes," she said after a moment. "I'm Captain Murrue Ramius, and these are Lieutenant Commanders Mu La Flaga and Sophia DiFalco, Lieutenant Natarle Badgiruel, and..."

He nodded. "Yes, Commander Ken DiFalco. Even in Orb we've heard of the famous -or is it infamous?- Grimaldi Falcon."

The eyepatch-wearing ace -who had eschewed his trench coat for this meeting, and wore his katana openly- slipped into a chair, and nodded. "That would be me, yes," he said easily, maintaining the charade (for charade it was; Lord Uzumi knew perfectly well who he was).

"Well," Orb's Chief Representative went on, "now that we have all been introduced, there remains the matter which brought us here." He steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "Exactly what are we going to do with you, now that you're here?"

Murrue and Mu exchanged glances. "Well, Lord Uzumi," she began carefully, "we assumed that would be up to you."

"Hm... yes, perhaps, in a small way." Uzumi's eyes narrowed. "But I must tell you, Captain Ramius, that your arrival has put Orb in a difficult position. If ZAFT were to learn of your presence, the diplomatic consequences could be... severe."

Mu frowned. "Then why let us in in the first place?" he asked curiously. "Was it just because your daughter was onboard?"

The Orb leader looked at him coolly. "Rest assured, Commander, that though I am grateful for my daughter's survival, I _am_ well aware of my responsibilities to Orb." He leaned back, looking somehow more relaxed. "However, you also saved several Orb children from Heliopolis, which certainly justifies a certain amount of risk-taking in this regard."

Murrue relaxed at his words. "I'm glad to hear it," she said candidly. "But what happens now?"

"As Colonel Kisaka has already informed you," he answered, "the official position is that the _Archangel_ is no longer within our borders. ZAFT may or may not believe this, but they have to respect it... as long as they have no proof to the contrary."

"It's appearances that truly matter in politics," Ken put in. "The facts matter little, if you have an efficient propaganda machine."

Sophia glanced at him. "Experience?"

It was Uzumi who answered that question. "If what I have heard of the origin of Operation Aquila is correct, Commander, then yes, I would say your brother knows what he's talking about."

Natarle decided it was time to bring the topic back to the original point. "So what _are_ you going to do with us, Lord Uzumi? Are we to just go on our way, as soon as the coast is clear?"

He shook his head. "Actually, we are quite willing to repair the _Archangel_ while she's here -you're in no shape to depart, after all- and give your crew a chance to recover from what has doubtless been a stressful journey. All we ask in return is..."

Murrue tensed. "Yes, My Lord?"

"We would like the Strike's current combat data," Uzumi said at last, "as well as the loan of its pilot, for technical support with Morgenroete."

Natarle nearly shot to her feet in protest, but the Captain touched her arm. "Not now, Natarle," she murmured. "That's your only price?" she asked carefully.

The man nodded. "Yes. A fair exchange, I would say."

Murrue looked at Mu, and frowned in thought. "Very well, Lord Uzumi," she said finally. "As you say, it's a fair price; and the G-weapon technology is hardly secret now, anyway, after ZAFT captured those four machines." She nodded slowly. "I'll have Ensign Yamato take the Strike to... wherever it is you'll want it. Besides, the machine itself could probably use some work, after all the battles we've been through."

Uzumi nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I'll have Morgenroete begin repairs as soon as possible; I suggest that the Strike be taken to the Morgenroete facilities sometime before dawn, when there is less chance of being seen."

"Agreed." The officers stood. "If there is nothing else..."

"Oh, of course; I'm sure you have much to discuss, back on your ship. But, Commander DiFalco," he said, raising a hand, "if you might stay a few moments?"

Ken nodded. "Of course." He looked over at Murrue. "I'll catch up."

She shot him a puzzled glance, but nodded and left, with the others in tow. _I wonder what's going on? Oh, well; if it's anything serious, I'm sure he'll explain when he gets back..._

"So, Commander," Uzumi said, when they were alone. "I see you've a hand in this yourself, after all. I should have known you wouldn't be content to sit out the war in peace."

"Actually," the ace said, standing and moving to the window, "that was exactly my intention; but Heliopolis changed things." He shot the older man a suspicious look. "Just what possessed Orb to get involved in this in the first place?"

Uzumi grimaced. "Certain important officials in Morgenroete... and the Sahaku family. They apparently intended to use the opportunity to obtain Earth Forces technology, and so improve Orb's position. I will grant," he said reluctantly, "that the destruction of Heliopolis wasn't part of their plan; no one expected ZAFT to actually _attack_ a neutral space colony."

"I know _I_ didn't," Ken agreed. "And it forced my hand."

"Yes..." The politician gave him a shrewd look. "That machine that rescued your ship... that was _your_ work, wasn't it? I recognized the style."

"Yes," the ace admitted. "It was me. Though I was as surprised as anyone; I had no idea my people could get it online so fast. It was clearly incomplete... but even so, it was enough to defeat the ZAFT forces with absurd ease. Apparently Tom does good work."

"Hm. So your plan is still in effect?"

"Yes." Ken turned to face the other man. "Lord Uzumi, the time is coming faster than we expected. The plans we discussed will become relevant within the next two months, if things continue the way they are. You know what that means." His eye narrowed. "Are you willing to follow through?"

Uzumi leaned back. "I think the real question, Commander, is whether _you_ are. You know what this may mean; you cannot continue to fight as you have, since joining the _Archangel._"

"I know." The pilot sighed. "And I'm prepared, as are my people. We'll do our job."

"Then we are still in accord." The older man tilted his head. "So, how _are_ things proceeding?"

"According to the last message, quite well." Ken frowned, turning back to the window. "According to a Morse code-message from that machine, _Asmodeus _is still months from completion, of course; but since it was only last month that I was able to get the _Archangel_-class blueprints to them, that's hardly a surprise. Preybird -the machine from earlier today- should be completed on schedule, which is hardly a surprise, after this morning." He snorted. "The only thing that _hasn't_ gone according to plan so far is me. I had no intention of returning to the battlefield."

Uzumi smiled slightly. "I know; but others thought differently. What was it Commander Cooper said, when you left for Heliopolis?"

Ken closed his eye. "'From the ashes a fire shall be woken,'" he quoted, "'a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken: the crownless again shall be king.'" He snorted again. "He always did like to quote Tolkien at me, even if it's singularly inappropriate in this case." His face was grim. "All that follows is because of _my_ mistake; no broken blade will be renewed. I can't hope to renew my honor, but I can at least hope to remedy my error, atone for my sin."

"Which was what?" the noble asked gently. "You've never said exactly what brought you to this path."

"And I won't now, either. This is my burden to bear, Lord Uzumi; I won't lay it on others." Ken drew the blade that hung at his hip, examining the bright blade, made from an alloy unknown to the ancient masters. "This was forged in brighter times," he murmured, "before I committed my sin; she alone knows the whole truth of what I have done." He shook his head. "No, Lord Uzumi, I won't burden others with what I know. No one else should labor under the obligations that have been placed upon me."

"As you wish, Commander."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Murrue's Office

* * *

"I'm against it!" Natarle said, with surprising vehemence. "Giving the Strike's combat data to Orb... it would be bad enough if it were Eurasia, but Orb isn't even a member of the Earth Alliance!"

Mu rolled his eyes. "So, what are we supposed to do, _swim_ to Alaska? I don't know if you noticed, Lieutenant, but the _Archangel_ is hardly in any shape to go anywhere right now. Without repairs, it'll take us months... _if_ we get there at all."

"I'm aware of that," she snapped back. "I didn't say we shouldn't obtain repairs here; but I _am_ saying we should pay for them, not trade the Strike's data and the loan of one of our pilots."

"In case you didn't notice," Sophia interjected, "we don't exactly have the cash on hand to _do_ that, Lieutenant. Repairing a ship like this won't be cheap, you know; I'd say Lord Uzumi's price is quite reasonable, under the circumstances."

"But, Commander-"

"Enough, Natarle," Murrue said wearily. "They're both right: we don't have much choice if we're going to get to Alaska. And, as I said during the meeting, the G-weapon technology is hardly a secret now. I don't see any harm in helping them out."

Natarle glowered. "Very well then, Captain," she said, _most_ reluctantly. "But I'll be sure to mention this in my report when we reach Alaska." She saluted crisply, and stalked angrily from the room.

In her wake, Ken entered, looking a little bemused. "The Lieutenant didn't look happy," he remarked. "She being by the Book again?"

Mu sighed. "Yeah; sometimes I'm not sure how much she understands about reality, outside of battle. We really _don't_ have much choice."

"She'll get over it," his brother opined. "Even Lieutenant Badgiruel can't stay angry for three entire weeks."

"Who knows," Sophia remarked, "maybe she'll even change her mind."

Murrue rubbed her temples. "Lieutenant Badgiruel? Not likely." She looked up. "So, Falcon how was your meeting with Lord Uzumi?"

"Productive," he said simply. _And that's all I'm going to tell you; the time has not yet arrived for you to know more..._

Sophia shook her head. "Something tells me we're not going to get any more out of you; so I'm going to go get some sleep." She stretched, yawned, and left the compartment.

"Yeah," Mu murmured. "Me, too."

Murrue watched him go, and shook her head. "And I thought _you_ were the one who was supposed to get tired easily on planets," she told her one remaining companion.

Ken shrugged. "It's been a long day, Murrue, what do you expect?"

She looked at him, eyes narrow. "You sound oddly fresh; what did you do, plug yourself into a power outlet and recharge your batteries?"

To her surprise, he let out a quiet chuckle. "Something like that, Murrue." _And you have no idea how close to the mark you are..._ "But, as it happens, _I'm_ getting a little tired, too. If you'll excuse me..."

He left, leaving Murrue to shake her head in bemusement. "I don't think I will ever figure that man out..."

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has arrived in Orb, after a fierce battle… and Falcon's creation has made its debut. Perhaps when next the new bird flies the sky, it will be complete…

Not much to say this time. What with the new rule changes, I can no longer respond to reviews here. Therefore, those who use signed reviews should expect to get review replies from me from now on; and I should mention to those who review anonymously that, if they want a reply, it would be helpful to include an e-mail address.

That, I believe, is everything. So, let me know how the chapter was. -Solid Shark


	21. Chapter 21: The Land of Peace

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Cousteau,_ Briefing Room, March 25th, C.E. 71

* * *

"We have two problems facing us," Athrun began, ignoring Yzak's glower. "First, figuring out where the legged ship is, and what to do about it." 

"That's simple," Yzak said with a snort. "We tell Orb to give up the legged ship, and if they don't, we go in after it."

The blue-haired pilot shook his head. "Yzak, that wouldn't be a good idea. The diplomatic repercussions of such a move would not please the Supreme Council; and we're not even sure that the ship is even still there. For all we know, the official statement may be the truth."

Duel's pilot snorted again. "Come on; don't tell me you believe that passel of lies. It's ridiculous! How can they expect us to believe such nonsense?" He shook his head. "No, Athrun, what we _should_ do is force our way in and have a look for ourselves."

It was Dearka's turn to disagree. "Somehow, I don't think it's that simple, Yzak." He looked over at their nominal superior. "Here's where you point out the _second_ problem, right?"

Athrun nodded. "Yes: that machine from two days ago. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't an Earth Forces machine; if it were, the legged ship would have deployed it against us long ago. Besides which, its technology was far superior even to our G-weapons. As far as it was concerned, we might as well have been mobile armors."

"So you're saying it was an Orb unit?" Nicol asked.

Another nod. "Probably. They have the weapons-development capability to pull it off, and probably the resources." He frowned. "What really worries me is that the machine was clearly incomplete, and yet it _still_ defeated us with ease. I don't want to think about what it might do when fully-operational."

Yzak scowled. "So what are we supposed to do, then? Just leave, and let them get away with this garbage? I don't think the homeland would be very happy with us..."

Athrun shook his head. "I never said we going to just leave, Yzak. I'm well aware of the threat that ship poses to us; and the perhaps greater threat posed by Commander DiFalco. No, we'll take a look... but carefully. We'll go in undercover, and scout around that way."

Nicol nodded thoughtfully. "That's a good idea, Athrun; if the ship is there, we'll find it, and if it isn't, we haven't lost anything."

Dearka frowned, considering it. "Well... I can't say I _like_ it," he said slowly. "But with Falcon out there... I'd say it's our best option. It's one thing I don't think he'll expect."

Yzak strode to the hatch. "I don't like it," he declared. "But, if that's your order, _Commander_ Zala, then I guess I can live with it." He smiled suddenly; and it was not a pleasant sight. "Besides... maybe I'll finally get to see the face of the Strike pilot."

He left; and Dearka wondered privately why Athrun looked so disturbed by those parting remarks.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Natarle stood at the bow of the Bridge, looking out at the rest of the ship, and the vast drydock beyond. It seemed very quiet there, with the ship's engines silent, and no sounds of battle. 

She still wasn't happy about the decision to give Orb the Strike's battle data, and loan them Kira Yamato for technical support; but she'd decided if she had to live with it, there was no point in fuming about it all the time. _I think it's the wrong decision, but it's not my decision to make._ And even she admitted that they _did_ need the repairs; she just thought they were paying for it the wrong way.

The elevator hatch slid open, and Murrue stepped onto the Bridge. "Hello, crew," she greeted. "I trust everything is going as it should?"

Natarle glanced up. "The last of the Morgenroete engineers have arrived," she said, glancing out the viewport again. "They've already begun work on the repairs."

"I didn't expect them to be able to start this soon," the Captain remarked. "So, where's Kira?"

"He's already gone to the Morgenroete facilities, with the Strike," Natarle replied. "They left early this morning, before dawn."

"I see." Murrue folded her arms, looking out. "Do you have any idea where Falcon is, by the way? He doesn't seem to be around today."

The lieutenant shrugged. "Beats me; I'd guess he went to the Morgenroete factory with Ensign Yamato, since Raptor seems to be missing, but I can't say for sure. I haven't quite figured him out yet. I'm sure he's up to something, though," she added dryly. "He always is."

Murrue laughed quietly. "Yes, I suppose he is; I wouldn't put it past him to have somehow arranged our presence here in the first place. I'm quite certain he's made quiet arrangements to make our journey a little easier. There have been a few too many 'fortunate coincidences' since we set out from Heliopolis."

Natarle wasn't sure about that, but she had a feeling her superior might have a point. "There _is_ talk of the remaining members of his team," she suggested. "Maybe they're operating under some kind of standing orders, from before he left the PLANTs."

"More likely he's been sending messages to them... though I've no idea how." She didn't particularly care, either; she just had the growing sense that the _Archangel_ had become ensnared in one of the Grimaldi Falcon's Machiavellian schemes.

_Whether it's for good or ill, I can't guess,_ Murrue thought. _But for now, I'll trust his judgment; he hasn't led us into unnecessary danger yet._ Though he had reputedly caused both himself and Cagalli considerable trouble, out in the ocean, through his inexperience in Earthbound warfare...

* * *

Morgenroete Facility

* * *

Two machines rode the elevator down into the buried facility. Both were the gunmetal gray of PSA-equipped machines with Phase-shift down, and both had the distinctive look of X100 frames. In fact, they were identical, save only for the hardwired shield/grappler on one machine's left arm, and its unique backpack, both like and unlike an Aile Striker pack. 

The twin mobile suits came to a halt, and their cockpits opened almost as one. Blue-uniformed Kira Yamato was first down, from X105 Strike; he was swiftly followed by the trench coat-wearing Ken "Falcon" DiFalco, from X107 Raptor.

Waiting for them was a brown-haired, female Morgenroete engineer. "Welcome," she said, holding out a hand to Kira. "I'm Chief Engineer Erica Simmons; I guess we'll be working together for awhile."

The pilot shook the proffered hand. "Ensign Kira Yamato," he said in turn. "The Strike's pilot; I guess you've probably heard of me."

"Oh, that's very true, Ensign." Erica turned to the other pilot, extending her hand once again. "And you are...?"

"Commander Ken DiFalco," Ken answered, taking the hand. "Late of ZAFT's 'Gray Demons', and later the Special Forces. Currently, I'm _Archangel_'s wing commander."

She blinked in surprise. _Lord Uzumi didn't warn me about _this. _We're going to have words..._ "Pleased to meet you," she said aloud. "The Grimaldi Falcon," she added, almost to herself, as she looked the ace over. "The one they call ZAFT's Broken Blade."

Ken tilted his head. "I didn't know they did."

"Commander," Erica told him, "few things spread more easily than a good nickname; I don't know who started it, but by now a lot of people seem to have heard it."

"Well, you can tell this to anyone who asks: this broken blade won't be renewed... at least not while I wear this uniform." He opened the top of his coat, revealing the white Earth Forces uniform beneath. "Now, shall we cut to the chase?"

"Of course, Commander." She turned back down the huge corridor. "Follow me, please; I believe you'll both find what I have to show you quite interesting." A thought struck her then, and she paused. "By the way, Commander, I was told only to expect Ensign Yamato here; will you also be providing technical support?"

Ken nodded. "Yes, of course; no one seems to have remembered it, but I happen to be a decent engineer myself. Whatever it is you're working on, I believe I may be of some assistance."

"I'm glad to hear it. We can always use a fresh perspective."

The trio paused at a pair of large doors, and Ken took the time to study the Morgenroete engineer. There was something... _Wait a minute. Is she...?_

Erica noticed his scrutiny, and smiled slightly. "Yes, that is correct, Commander; like you, I'm a Coordinator." Her smiled widened at Kira's surprised reaction. "Tell me, just what was it that gave me away? I don't have some of the more obvious visual modifications some Coordinators have."

"It's the way you move," he informed her. "Subtle; subtle enough that I doubt even most Coordinators would notice. But I've studied martial arts for over a decade, and that teaches you things; like how to recognize subtle clues in stride and body language. No Natural moves quite the way you do."

"I'll take that as a compliment." The doors slid aside, and she led the pilots through into another enormous chamber. "There's something here I think you should see," she informed them.

Kira gasped, and Ken's visible eye went narrow. Before them was a long row of tall machines, in red and white with black trim... and it didn't take an ace to recognize them for what they were.

Mobile suits.

Kira stared. _Mobile suits...? I didn't realize Orb even had any... they don't advertise it, that's for sure..._

"Why so surprised?" Erica asked them. "After all, your own Strike and Raptor were constructed at Heliopolis; did you really think we wouldn't use what we learned there for our own purposes?"

"I should have known," Ken murmured. "Orb is a neutral nation, with no desire whatsoever to become involved in the war; but in order to ensure that, they must have the power to fight off anyone who tries to violate that neutrality." He turned to the engineer. "Orb keeps her secrets well, Chief."

"That's the idea, Commander." She nodded at the machines. "The MBF-M1 Astray, our first mobile suits. As you can see, they're largely based on the G-weapons; if you look inside, you'll notice the cockpits are nearly identical to those prototypes."

Kira, for his part, could indeed see the resemblance; he'd spent enough time working on -and fighting in- the Strike to notice the familial traces in the Astrays' form. _They're a lot like the Strike, for sure; but how good are they in combat? And... why?_

"What does Orb intend to do with them?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "Why build so many of them?"

Another, more familiar voice answered. "They're to be the guardians of Orb's neutrality," Cagalli Yula Athha said, walking toward them; she wore her usual khaki pants and red t-shirt. "You know, don't you, Orb's position? That we will not attack another nation, nor allow another nation to attack us. But to maintain that position, we need strength; and today, mobile armors alone are no longer sufficient. The Astrays will serve as our strength now."

Kira felt obscurely pleased to see her; he supposed it was largely the comfort of seeing a familiar face in unfamiliar surroundings. "Where did you get the technology to _do_ this?"

"Don't you remember?" Erica raised an eyebrow. "It was Morgenroete that built the G-weapons, and the _Archangel;_ we weren't exactly idle during that time. The construction of the G-weapons may not have been official Orb policy, but we saw no reason not to take advantage of the opportunity."

Cagalli scowled. "It would have been better if my father had never gotten us involved in the war to begin with; his betrayal may cost us all."

The engineer sighed. "You're still going on about that? Listen, Lord Uzumi knew nothing about the G-weapon program; that was the Sahakus and a handful of others. The Orb government itself was not involved in any way. Why don't you just accept it?"

"Because it's absolutely ridiculous!" the girl snapped back. "And even if it were true, my father is still responsible for it; not knowing about it is just as much of a crime as if he'd been directly involved himself."

"That's true," Erica admitted reluctantly. "And that's why he's issued an apology, and resigned his position as Chief Representative."

Cagalli snorted. "Yeah, he's said a few harmless words, and turned over his position to my uncle. That doesn't sound like much of a change to me."

Before the argument could go any further, Ken raised a hand. "This bickering is pointless," he said quietly. "Chief, I should point out that Lord Uzumi, in point of fact, _did_ know about the Project; don't try to tell me otherwise. In any case, however, that is not the task that lies before us." He looked up at the nearest M1. "Would I be correct in assuming that these machines are what require our 'technical support'?"

Erica nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "That's right; follow me, and I'll show you the problem." She turned and walked toward another set of doors; behind her, Kira fell into step with Cagalli, while Ken trailed like a silent, gray shadow.

The doors led into what appeared to be an observation chamber of sorts; and beyond the windows -doubtless heavily reinforced against accidents- stood a trio of M1 Astrays, lined up in preparation for an exercise.

Erica stepped to the window. "All right, Asagi," she said into her headset. "You can begin the exercise now; show us how they work."

_"Okay!"_ a voice replied, and the Astrays' eyes flashed, signaling that they were powered up.

"That's Asagi Caldwell," the engineer told her companions. "She's our lead Astray test pilot, along with Juri Wu Nien and Mayura Labatt." She nodded at the window. "Take a close look; I don't think you'll have much trouble understanding why we need you two."

_That's an understatement,_ Ken thought a few moments later. The Astrays could move... but that was about all that could be said for them. As an engineer and former test pilot himself, he found watching the slow, lumbering M1s almost physically painful.

"Can't you do better than that?" Cagalli demanded. "You're too slow."

_"At least we can move,"_ Asagi shot back. _"The original G-weapons couldn't even do _that _without an OS upgrade."_

"Moving won't do you much good at those speeds," the girl said acidly. "You'd be taken out in seconds at the most."

_"It's not our fault!"_

Kira put a hand on Cagalli's shoulder. "She's right, Cagalli; it really _isn't_ their fault. With a better operating system, they'd be a lot better." He looked at Erica. "That's what you need _us_ for, right?"

The engineer nodded. "That's right. I understand you did a superb job with the Strike's OS, so this shouldn't be too difficult for you." She glanced at the ace. "And the Commander here should be able to help you out; I hadn't hoped we might have the test pilot for the CGUE here to help us."

Ken smiled slightly. "You knew about that, huh? Well, as it happens, I was also the lead programmer; so far as it goes, anyway. All that it really needed was a slightly-modified version of a standard GINN OS. Although," he went on thoughtfully, "I _did_ come up with a completely new operating system for my personal machine."

"Then I'm sure you'll be a great help, Commander." Erica paused. "And, Commander... if you could show our pilots a thing or two, while you're here, we'd all be grateful. Even once we have a workable OS, they'll be green; anything you can teach them would be most appreciated."

"Certainly, Chief." The ace rubbed his eyepatch. "Wouldn't be the first time I showed rookies the ropes... right, Kira?"

Kira nodded, with a small smile. "That's right; and I needed it, too."

"Actually, I think you'd have managed just fine even without me; but I digress."

Ken was distracted then by a call from across the room. "Hey, Falcon! Long time no see!"

He raised an eyebrow, saw who it was, and quietly left his comrades to watch the exercise. "Well, well, well... If it isn't Lowe Guele himself." He gripped the brown-haired youth's arm. "It's been awhile."

"Sure has," Lowe agreed. "Not since we got you to Heliopolis." He grimaced. "That didn't turn out quite the way we hoped, did it?"

"Not exactly, no." Ken leaned against the nearest wall. "So, just what brings a Junk Guilder like yourself all the way down to Earth? You're not exactly a frequent visitor, Lowe."

"Ahh, _HOME_ got kinda beat up in orbit." The Junk Guilder shrugged. "Kind of a long story; had a few problems on the way here, too, but nothing we couldn't handle."

"Mm. That doesn't surprise me." By now, the ace had heard of the three Astray prototypes, one of which had ended up in the hands of this young salvage operator. "I hear you also ran across a few interesting things in the Debris Belt; something about the beam deflection sword, Gerbera Straight."

"Yeah, we found it; the Red Frame's got it now. I prefer it to the beam weapons, really. Doesn't use as much power." Lowe lowered his voice. "By the way... I heard rumors about what your people are up to, back in the PLANTs, so I managed to get the plans for the Gerbera Straight to them. Think they can replicate it?"

Ken drew the blade from his waist. "This sword was forged by Tom Delaney," he said softly, "of the same material the Gerbera Straight is said to made from. I think he can handle one a little bigger; and he's already building a mobile suit that could make good use of it."

"You mean the one that turned up outside of Orb a couple days ago?" The Junk Guilder looked back at the sword. "Huh; so you're still carrying that thing, eh?"

"Yes; a relic from my past that I still keep with me. Something to remind me of who I once was... and will be again." The former ZAFT pilot sheathed the katana. "But her name I will not speak again until I cast off this uniform; she doesn't deserve the dishonor of being worn with Earth Alliance colors."

Lowe shook his head. "Every time you start talking like that, I think you've jumped out of the pages of one of those old books you're always reading. Keep it up, and I'll start thinking you really _are_ the Broken Blade."

"No," Ken murmured. "I'm not; but the Gray Demons are." A cold light lit his eye. "One day, they'll be back; and whether I'm still with them or not, my mission _will_ be accomplished."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Murrue's Office, March 29th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Well," Sophia remarked, "I'll say one thing for our layover in Orb: we can finally take a break. Those constant battles were starting to get to me." 

Murrue nodded. "Yes, I know; me, too. And Falcon, whether he'll admit it or not. He may seem tireless during a crisis, but I notice he tends to be very weak after a battle; almost as though he has to recharge his batteries or something."

Mu leaned against a bulkhead. "He's probably still not fully accustomed to gravity," he pointed out. "You don't spend that many years in outer space -most of it in zero-g- and then come to grips with gravity in just a month or so; that's one reason our forces tend to rotate personnel, so that nobody spends too much time in space. Exercise equipment can fight off the physical effects, like muscle and bone degradation, but that doesn't mean coming back to Earth after so long is particularly pleasant." He stroked his chin idly. "He might also have some kind of medical condition," he said slowly, "that tires him out."

Sophia shot him a sharp look. "But Doctor Hibson hasn't said anything about something like that; not that I've heard, anyway."

"That's because he hasn't seen Falcon," Murrue told her. "Not once."

Her friend registered surprise. "Huh? But..."

"He takes care of any injuries all by himself," the Captain explained, frowning. "From what Doctor Hibson has told me, the only time Falcon has even set foot in the Infirmary since coming aboard was to check on Kira, just after we landed; even the various times he's been shot up, he's dealt with it in his quarters. Won't let anyone else get near him."

Sophia nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense; like I said back at Heliopolis, Falcon hides his weakness; if he _has_ a medical problem, he won't breathe a word of it until or unless it becomes imperative for us to know about it. And he'll delay that moment as long as possible."

"Whatever it is," Mu commented, "it doesn't seem to affect his flying any. The only times he's really had problems, it was because of..."

"...the fact that he hates planets. Yeah, I know. Believe me, I haven't forgotten the scare he gave us when he and Cagalli got lost over the Indian Ocean."

"And quite the scare it was," Murrue said feelingly. "I was starting to get more than a little worried, by the time Kira found them." She shook her head wryly. "Admittedly, he seems well able to take care of himself, but though it's easy to forget, he isn't an adult."

"Actually," Sophia corrected, "he _is_ by Coordinator standards; and on June Sixth, he will be by Natural standards, too."

The Captain cocked an eyebrow. "The anniversary of D-Day, isn't it? Seems appropriate somehow..."

Mu chuckled. "Cap'n, if Falcon had been around back then, he'd have won the war for the Allies in a week, or given the Axis the world on a silver platter. Yeah, I'd say it's appropriate..."

Sophia shook her head. "I'd just be happier if we knew what he's doing to affect _this_ war. He can talk all he wants about his 'plans', but you have to wonder just how in the world he intends to carry them out. One man, alone, with a single ship, two mobile armors, and a pair of mobile suits? Either he really is brilliant -and has confederates somewhere- or he's gone off the deep end." She snorted. "Personally, I'd say a combination of the two."

"Maybe so," Murrue murmured. "But after everything I've seen of him, and everything he did last year, with ZAFT, I wouldn't bet against him..." She gazed at the papers on her desk. "The only worry, as I see it, is exactly what he's trying to fight. I know he hates the Earth Forces, over the Bloody Valentine and their long dominion over the PLANTs, but he also hates what ZAFT has become. There's the Battle of Endymion, for one thing, and whatever it was that induced him to desert in the first place."

"And the attack on Heliopolis," Sophia reminded her. "We lost our parents there."

Murrue winced. "Sorry, Sophia; I didn't mean to bring up painful memories..."

The Kestrel slowly shook her head. "It's okay, Murrue," she said softly. "Besides, in one thing Falcon and I are in agreement: the middle of a war is not the time to grieve. When all this over, maybe... but not today. Which reminds me," she added after a moment. "The students... their parents are all here in Orb, right? Are they going to be able to see them?"

The Captain nodded. "Yes, actually; that's what these papers are about. It seems Orb has managed to notify the families without breaching security regarding _Archangel_'s presence, so they'll be coming to the Morgenroete facilities sometime tomorrow." She looked over at Mu. "I hope Lieutenant Badgiruel won't have any objections to granting them enough time off."

The Hawk of Endymion smiled. "Not to worry, Captain; even the Lieutenant has _some_ feelings. And besides, there really isn't much for the kids to _do,_ while the ship is in drydock. Tolle's a helmsman without a ship, Sai's an ECM specialist with nothing to work on, Kuzzey's a radio operator with no one to talk to, Miriallia's got nothing to do when no machines are out, and Flay..."

"Flay doesn't have a real assignment yet," Sophia murmured. "And her parents are both dead."

A solemn silence filled the room.

* * *

Morgenroete Hangar

* * *

Off in one corner of the facility, a gray-cloaked figure sat in Raptor's cockpit, typing furiously. Unlike Kira, who was over in the Strike, Ken was not working on the Natural-compatible OS. Instead, he was writing up scenarios for pilot simulations, for when the Astray pilots could actually use their machines properly. 

What he was working on now was a modification of the Endymion scenario he'd put Kira through, when they first joined the _Archangel;_ and as he did so, an old soldier's saying went through his mind. _A soldier will arrive at the Pearly Gate, and to Saint Peter he will say: "One more soldier reporting sir; I've served my time in Hell."_

_Yeah,_ Ken thought absently. _Tell me about it. After Endymion, that soldier should have been me..._ He still didn't know how they'd gotten to him in time to revive him, and he didn't know who it had been -despite spending months trying to learn the rescuer's identity- but he was grateful... despite what it had ultimately led to. _Face it, birdbrain, dying at Endymion wouldn't have changed anything; by then, it was already too late. If anything, dying there would have made things worse..._

In another corner of the vast hangar, Cagalli walked along a catwalk, and came to a stop over the Strike. From within, she could hear rapid typing. "Wow," she said, leaning forward to look in. "Somebody's in a hurry."

Kira looked up. "Oh, hi, Cagalli. It's just me," he added, pushing aside the keyboard.

She blinked a little sheepish. "Oh, of course; I should've known nobody else would be in there, and that's how you type normally..." For him, it wasn't rushing; it was just the confidence born of greater mental capacity. "So, what's with the outfit?"

He glanced down at himself; specifically, at the yellow-and-white mechanic's clothing he wore. "They said it probably wasn't a good idea to wear a military uniform while working here," he explained. "So Chief Murdoch's people lent me this."

She nodded. "I see; makes sense."

"So, uh..." Kira paused. "So, what brings you here? I mean, you _are_ a princess, after all."

Cagalli instantly glared at him. "What did I tell you about calling me that?" she said dangerously. "It wasn't _that_ long ago..."

He winced. "Oh, right; sorry."

She irritably waved it off. "Never mind. Anyway, I'm here because I want to make sure the _Archangel_ and her machines get everything they need; somebody has to supervise, so I might as well. And..." She glanced away. "My father and I... aren't exactly on the best of terms right now. Not since... well, not for a while."

Kira nodded. "Which is part of the reason you were on Heliopolis." He tilted his head. "By the way, I never did get around to asking you just what you were doing up there in the first place."

Cagalli shrugged. "It's like I was saying to Chief Simmons the other day. I'd heard rumors claiming that Morgenroete was building mobile suits for the Earth Forces; and since my father refused to talk about it -kept changing the subject, every time I brought it up- I decided I'd have to go see for myself." She glanced over at Raptor. "That's how I got back in touch with Ken. We'd known each, years ago, on the global networks -back when he first joined ZAFT, I guess it was- and I remembered he was a good hacker. So, once I was in range to contact Heliopolis, I sent him a message. I actually tried to hire him, but his return message said that he wouldn't charge for doing a favor for a friend." She chuckled to herself. "'Friend'; and to think I nearly shot him a couple times in the desert. Of course," she went on, "there were a couple times _after_ that when I almost did, too; like when he dropped us into the water without any weapons that would work there, or just after that, when he got us lost in broad daylight."

He shrugged. "Nobody ever said he was infallible. Even he admits it was a mistake that got him where he is now, right?"

"No, he never said he was infallible... he just acts like it." She shook herself. "But anyway, that's how I got into this whole mess: trying to find out if Orb was really as 'neutral' as it claimed."

Kira nodded. "And then you found out..."

_"So it's true... the Earth Forces' prototype mobile suits... Father, I knew you betrayed us all!"_

"But..." He frowned. "I thought your father -I mean, Chief Representative Athha- really _didn't_ know anything about what was Morgenroete was up to."

Cagalli snorted. "Yeah, that's what a lot of people on the inside say... but if you ask me, I think Ken's a more reliable source. Besides, whatever Chief Simmons and the others might say, my father has never actually denied knowing about it." She sighed, almost despairingly.

Kira looked up at her, concerned. "Cagalli, I..."

He was interrupted by the brief exchange between a couple of mechanics passing by. "The main hydros have seen some really tough wear and tear," one remarked. "I'm surprised the whole thing is even still working, after all the abuse it's been subjected to."

"It's the same with the rest of the drive systems," the other agreed. "It's almost like the machine itself is crying for help. And did you see the other one?"

"Yeah; I never saw a machine with stress fractures like that..."

They trailed off into the distance, and Cagalli frowned. "Did you hear what those guys said? The way they were talking about the Strike..."

Kira climbed out of the cockpit. "Maybe they're right," he said quietly. "But I didn't have a choice; too much was at stake. Even so... there were a lot of people I wasn't able to protect."

He headed off toward one of the lounges -present if only because the various engineers and mechanics often spent days within the facility's confines- and Cagalli followed after him, concerned. _Kira... they've put too much on your shoulders, haven't they? All of them... even Ken._

She looked across the hangar, and made brief eye contact with the gray shadow near the Raptor. A trace of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because the ace nodded slightly... as though acknowledging her silent accusation.

* * *

Morgenroete Lounge

* * *

"So, that's why you were out in the desert?" Kira remarked holding up a cup of coffee. "You joined the Desert Dawn because you were fed up?" 

"Something like that," Cagalli admitted, accepting the cup. "My father always tells me that I have no idea what the real world is like, so I went out to see for myself. And," she added wryly, "there's only so much royal treatment I can stand without going crazy. So, off I went, without telling anybody but Kisaka... and Kisaka can be trusted not to tell my father, if it's that important to me. He might try to convince me not to go, but he won't interfere."

He nodded, imagining with some amusement the reaction in Orb when she turned up missing. _Again, that is; they must be used to it by now._ "So," he said aloud, "what was it like?"

"It wasn't what I expected," she said slowly, gathering her thoughts. "I was used to the political arena, where nothing ever gets done; or at least, that's what it always looks like to me. But out in the desert, everyone I met fought desperately, for land most people I know wouldn't have cared about at all. I didn't understand it at first, really."

"I did," Kira said quietly. "After Heliopolis."

Cagalli nodded. "Yeah, I guess you would." She turned to the window, overlooking the hangar. "After seeing what it was like out there, how people lived, I took a close look at Orb; and what I saw actually kind of disgusted me." She absently sipped the coffee. "I saw all the power we had, all the things that we could do... and we insisted on remaining neutral. We try to be on good terms with _both_ sides... for our own benefit." She looked back at him. "Doesn't that make us sound opportunistic? Is that really the right thing to do?"

He considered that for long moments. "Would you prefer to fight?" he said at last. "Get involved in the war, instead of remaining as a neutral third party?"

She blinked; she hadn't quite thought of it that way. "All I want is to bring the war to an end," the girl said finally. "And I don't think this is the way to do that."

"Maybe not... but I don't think just fighting will end the war, either." Kira looked down at the Astrays. "Maybe it's true that if you want peace, you must prepare for war... but negotiation is a part of it, too, you know. Guns get you to the negotiating table, but then you need words; if weapons were all that mattered, ZAFT would've ended this war long ago."

Cagalli caught his wistful look. He'd just said more than he probably realized... "And then you would never have gotten involved in the fighting in first place, right?"

He jerked, startled, and nearly spilled his coffee. "Wha? No, no, I didn't mean..."

_"Sure _you didn't." She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. "Kira, it's not your fault, what you've had to do; you should never have been involved in this. I know you didn't want anything to do with this war..."

Kira was silent for long moments. "I don't know if it could've been avoided," he said slowly. "And if I hadn't ended up in the Strike's cockpit, I might not be here now; and my friends wouldn't have made it, either. There... really wasn't any other option."

"But you shouldn't have had to fight your best friend," Cagalli retorted. "None of this should have happened to you at all!"

He blinked, a little startled by her vehemence. "Maybe not," he conceded, after a moment's pause. "But... they say that things happen because they're _meant_ to; does that mean that I was meant to fight in this war? That I was meant to fly the Strike?"

"I don't care if you were 'meant' to do _anything,_ Kira," she told him. "What matters is that this isn't _right."_

Kira didn't really have an argument to that.

* * *

_Archangel,_ April 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

Flay Allster wandered the ship's corridors, feeling more lost than she had in some weeks. Her classmates -friends, once- were all visiting their parents... but she herself had no living family, and so walked aimlessly through _Archangel_'s silent passages. 

The one she really wanted to see, she supposed, was Kira; but he, too, had family to visit with... and, as she'd told herself many a time, she didn't really feel anything for him. He was merely a tool, to be used for her vengeance and then cast aside.

It was too bad, really, that he was a Coordinator; if he'd been a Natural, Flay might even have forgiven him for failing to protect her father. But as it was... He and that one-eyed lunatic, who had _trained_ her father's murderer, were little better than those who had done the deed. _DiFalco has to go,_ she thought to herself. _Him, at the least, and probably Kira, too..._

At last, resigned and depressed, she made her way to the quarters she and Kira shared... only to discover that they were not as empty as she'd expected.

"Hi, Flay," Kira greeted, seeing her enter; he was hard at work at the computer terminal, working on the Natural-adapted operating system for the Astrays.

Flay looked at him in surprise. "Kira...? What are _you_ doing here?"

"Hm?" He glanced up briefly. "Oh, I'm just making a few adjustments to the program; it's taking longer than I expected, but it has to be done before _Archangel_'s repairs are finished. I'll be with you in a few minutes; or you could wait in the cafeteria till I'm done."

She tensed, the beginnings of anger stirring to life within her. "Why didn't you go?" she asked, a slight edge in her voice. "You've got family here, too; why aren't you going to see them?"

Kira twitched; her words struck a nerve. "Like I said, I'm busy," he said evasively. "I don't really have time to go see-"

Flay strode angrily toward him, and slammed her palm on the terminal. _"Liar!"_

He jerked back, shocked. "Flay...? What... what's wrong?"

"You think I believe that lie?" she demanded. "You think I don't realize what you're really doing? I don't need your pity!"

"Pity?" The thought had not even entered Kira's head. He had his own reasons for avoiding his parents, sure, but Flay had nothing to do with it. "It's nothing like that," he protested, standing. "It's just-"

Even if he'd been inclined to say what was really bothering him, Flay didn't give him the chance. "You're lying! You're just here because you feel bad for me, right? Because no one's come to see me!" She clenched her fists. "So now, you're feeling _sorry_ for me. _Is that it?"_

He shook his head quickly. "No, Flay, it isn't..."

Kira's protests fell on deaf ears. "You're just putting on this big sympathy act for me," Flay said mockingly, voice dripping disgust. "You could be with your parents right now, but no, you're putting on this big show of not wanting to see them." If possible, her voice became even more mocking. _"You're_ the one people should _really_ be feeling sorry for, aren't you? Poor little Kira... he's all alone... You're so sad because you're fighting, and when you can't protect people, you feel so much worse..." Suddenly she moved closer, and pounded her fists on his chest. "So how..." she demanded, sobbing, "s how... how can you feel anything for someone like _me?"_

Stunned, Kira began to see clearly where Flay was concerned for perhaps the first time since he'd failed to save her father. Everything she'd done since then, every word she said... every word of caution Ken DiFalco had given him. He remembered them all... and realized now, after long weeks, that Ken had been right all along... and it was too late to save his heart from the pain he now suffered, from this betrayal...

"Stop it, Flay," he rasped at last. "Just... stop it. All of this... it was all a mistake..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You should go."

At first, Flay could not comprehend the words; but then she looked up through tearful eyes, stunned as she had not been in many days, not since her father perished in fire and light. "What...?" she whispered, shocked. "What did you _say?"_ She slowly straightened. "No... you... you can't..." With another sudden movement, she whirled and fled from the cabin, leaving a bitterly-wounded young man in her wake.

Outside, in the corridors, Flay's hasty departure did not go unnoticed; and the Grimaldi Falcon felt his guts twist. A strange instinct gripped him for a moment, and he ached to draw the sharp blade the hung at his side; for he had a pretty good idea what had just happened. _Flay Allster,_ he thought coldly, _be glad that it's madness that grips you now, or I swear my blade would taste your blood this day!_

Suddenly very angry indeed, the ace turned and vanished down one of the ship's darker, lesser-used side passages, trench coat fluttering behind him like a gray shadow.

His departure was also noticed; but this time, it was Cagalli who realized something was wrong. She'd caught a glimpse of fleeing red hair, then the sound of boots thumping on the deck in angry steps; so now she decided it might be prudent to see just what had occurred.

Stepping through Kira's still-open hatch, she came face-to-face with the young man himself, and saw at once his tense body, and unshed tears in his eyes. "Kira...?"

Kira's lips moved, but for several moments nothing came out. Then, in an almost-inaudible whisper, "Flay... all this time, she was just... just _using_ me..." He took several shuddering breaths. "I... I..."

Cagalli needed to hear no more. As she'd done on the _Archangel_'s deck, a month before, she pulled him into a comforting embrace; and Kira broke down, crying on her shoulder.

* * *

Morgenroete Facility

* * *

Later that same day, Kira's new operating system was ready for testing, and he, Mu, Erica, and Ken had gathered in the observation/control room to monitor the exercise. 

Mu, for his part, was puzzled by the attitudes of his fellow pilots. Kira seemed extremely subdued -though better than he'd been earlier- while the Grimaldi Falcon had closed himself off again from the outside world, no more expression on his face than the day they had first met face-to-face. He was also fingering his sword, as though he longed to drawn it against whatever ailed him.

Erica, on the other hand, spared her attention for nothing but the single Astray visible through the window. Last time they'd gathered for such a test, the machine had barely been able to move; now she watched it perform again, and marveled at the change. _That's incredible,_ she thought, watching the machine move swiftly and fluidly through a simple hand-to-hand exercise. _That's a tremendous improvement over its earlier performance..._

"I redesigned the molecular ion pumps," Kira was saying, typing furiously, "and improved the efficiency of the synapse fusing, in order to make the whole system more compatible with the reflexes of the average Natural. With improved artificial intelligence, there's less that the pilot needs to focus on, which reduces the strain on the pilot."

The engineer shook her head in amazement. "That's incredible," she said frankly. "I can't believe how quickly you did all that. You really _are_ good, aren't you."

"Best computer programmer I ever met," Ken remarked quietly.

She glanced his way. "I thought you were supposed to be a hot hand at this kind of thing, too."

He shrugged. "I'm better at breaking programs than making them; my strong point is the mechanical side of things." _To my sorrow,_ he didn't add.

Mu's attention was still on the Astray. "Would _I_ be able to get that kind of performance out of one of those things?"

Erica smiled. "Indeed you would, Commander; that is, if you're even half the pilot they say you are." She raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to give it a try?"

The Hawk started to answer, but then he heard a sigh from Kira, and looked over at the younger man in concern. _What's with him?_ The young Coordinator had seemed to see his task at Morgenroete as an interesting challenge, at first, but his heart no longer seemed to be in it.

Worried now, Mu kept his mouth shut; so Erica turned her attention back to the Astray. "Okay, Asagi," she called. "You can finish up now."

_"Roger that!"_

The engineers began closing things down, and Ken shot a concerned look at Kira. _I could cut Flay to ribbons for what she's done to you, Kira,_ he thought angrily. _She did her job too well; my warnings were useless against her sweet poison. Well, amigo, at least you're free of that now; perhaps you'll find someone who won't try to use you for her own ends..._

Troubled, he turned and swept silently out of the room; all this was reminding him of his own burdens, and he honestly didn't want to think about it right now.

Shortly, the group walked out the large metal doors, into the main hangar, and Kira paused. "Well, I'm gonna get back to the Strike now," he announced. "There are a few things I need to take care of."

Erica nodded. "Okay then; we'll see you later." She and the test pilots headed off in the other direction, cheerfully discussing the remarkable results of the test.

Mu, on the other hand, turned to follow the young pilot. "Hey, Kira!" he called, hurrying to catch up with the Strike pilot.

Kira glanced over his shoulder. "What is it, sir? Something up?" He hoped to avoid this conversation; he didn't much feel like talking right now.

"You look like something's bothering you," Mu told him. "So what's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong," Kira lied, walking toward the Strike. "Nothing at all."

"You expect me to believe that?" The Hawk's eyes narrowed. "For one thing, I'm told that you didn't go see your parents; why is that?" There was no one answer, and he frowned. "Kira?"

"Now isn't that right time," Kira said at last. "If I did meet them... all they'd see is a soldier." _Because now... that's all I am._

_What's going on his head?_ Mu wondered. That didn't sound like the Kira Yamato he knew; not the Kira who had hated the very idea of becoming a soldier, who had continued flying the Strike for the sole purpose of protecting his friends.

Further discussion was suspended when they reached the Strike, for Murdoch and several of his people were waiting for them. "Hey, kid," Murdoch greeted. "I went ahead and boosted the thrusters' output by eighteen percent; could you check the momentum-control parameters for me?"

"Sure," Kira replied, doing a very good job of hiding his inner turmoil. Climbing into the Strike's cockpit, he pulled down the keyboard and started booting up the OS.

Mu followed him up, and stood next to the machine's hatch. "You may be a soldier now," he said quietly, "but you're still Kira; I'm sure your parents were hoping they'd get a chance to see you."

The Coordinator didn't reply for long moments, instead typing commands at his usual, frenetic pace. "Every day," he said at last, almost inaudibly, "this is all I do. I fight battles in mobile suits; and then, I help out with their design and maintenance. Why?" He shrugged, not waiting for an answer. "Because I can." Snapshots went through his mind, of conflict after conflict, pushing the Strike to its limits and beyond, nearly being killed more than once; the most recent time being saved only by the timely intervention of a next-generation mobile suit, designed and built by rebels. _All this death and destruction... and it's what I'm _good _at..._

Mu was startled by his young friend's cynicism; he'd never heard him talk like that before. Just hours before, he'd seemed fine... "Kira..."

"If I were to see them now," Kira said, finally, voicing his real doubts at last, "I'd probably end up asking them why."

The Hawk frowned. "'Why' what?"

The fast fingers paused. "Why in the world did they make me a Coordinator?"

It was the first time Mu had heard Kira voice such a sentiment, and it startled and worried him. What could have brought him to this point...? _I'd better ask Falcon,_ he resolved. _If anybody knows what's going on, it'll be him..._

There was silence in the vast hangar for a long while after that; and then Kira's robotic pet, Birdy, took sudden flight from his shoulder, chirping in a peculiar way.

Kira's head snapped up. "Birdy?" The little green robot bird was winging its way out of the hangar, leaving its master completely alone, and that surprised him; it had never done that before. "Birdy!" He swiftly climbed out of the cockpit, wondered what the thing's intention was.

In a corner of the hangar, Ken watched... and understood. He had a fair knowledge of such robots himself, and he knew that, when their masters were about, there was still one thing that might attract their attention: their creators.

His blood ran cold. _Athrun Zala... he's here, on Onogoro. But how? Never mind how; he's here, and he's probably brought his fellow pilots with him. Which means... Dearka is here._

The ace shed his trench coat -it was too distinctive- swapped his eyepatch for a pair of sunglasses, and swiftly followed his protégé up to the surface.

* * *

Morgenroete Exterior

* * *

The four ZAFT pilots, wearing blue mechanics' outfits, stood near the water, idly watching the Morgenroete facility. _Well, this has been a waste,_ Dearka thought. _We come all this way, go to all this trouble... for absolutely nothing._

"I hate to admit it," Yzak said irritably, "but it looks like those bastards in the Orb government were telling the truth. The legged ship _isn't_ here."

"Yeah," Nicol agreed. "If it was, we'd have found it; you can't hide a ship like that very easily." He shrugged. "Well, at least now we know."

"Yeah..." Athrun murmured. Something still didn't seem right... but they had no more information now than when they'd arrived. "Well, we'd better head back to the beach soon; there's nothing more to be gained..."

He trailed off, hearing flapping wings and a faint chirping. "Birdy!" it seemed to call, and his heart nearly stopped in sheer surprise. His fellows might not recognize that call... but _he_ did.

The little robot spiraled down toward the foursome, and landed on Athrun's outstretched hand. "Birdy," it said again, and the other three crowded closer.

"What's that?" Dearka wondered, as confused as Athrun was shocked.

"Looks like a robotic bird," Nicol commented. "But where'd it come from?"

Athrun looked back across the fence, and saw exactly what he'd expected... and feared. "Birdy!" called the brown-haired youth. "Where could it be..."

Almost as if in a dream, the ZAFT pilot walked to the fence. _Kira... so you _are _here. And if you're here, then... so is the legged ship..._

Kira also approached the fence, and nearly froze in equal surprise when he saw who was there. _Athrun?_ he thought, stunned. _What... what are _you _doing here?_

Behind him, another brown-haired teenager appeared, in similar clothing; Athrun didn't recognize him, and neither did Yzak or Nicol... but Dearka did. Even in unfamiliar clothing, with sunglasses, there was no mistaking his longtime friend. _Falcon... so, you're here... and so is your ship._ Dearka swallowed. _So our trip _wasn't _in vain, after all..._

Meanwhile, Athrun lifted his hand, with Birdy still on it. "Is this... yours?" he asked, controlling his voice and expression very carefully.

Kira nodded, equally careful. "Yes, it is... thank you." Birdy hopped lightly into his hand, and his vision began to blur.

Passing by in a jeep driven by Erica Simmons, Cagalli glanced their way and nearly fell out of her seat. _That's Athrun! What is he...?_ "Stop!" she told the engineer, wanting very much to get a closer look.

At the fence, Athrun began to walk away; but Kira's voice stopped him. "I got it from an old friend," he called, "a long time ago." He swallowed. "It's a very valuable gift... from a valuable friend."

The Aegis' pilot tightly controlled his face. _Kira... so you still consider us... friends?_ "I see," was all he allowed himself to say, and he resumed his walk.

By now, Cagalli was running over to the fence as fast as her legs would carry her. "Kira!" she shouted, breathing hard; she had the satisfaction of seeing Athrun pause once more, but he continued on without another backward glance.

Ken caught her arm, still watching Dearka. "Careful," he murmured. "Don't break his cover; if you still want him in one piece, it would be unwise to let his comrades realize that he knows Kira."

She glanced at him, nodded slightly, and went to stand at Kira's side. "I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing his shoulder.

Kira nodded, throat tight. "Thanks," he said, and watched his best friend walk away one more time.

* * *

Author's note: The Astray program advances, while the _Archangel_ crew takes the time to rest at last. Meanwhile, Kira and Flay have had their inevitable confrontation… and the Zala team has learned the "legged ship" yet remains in Orb territory… 

Not much to say, I suppose; well, next chapter will finally return to the battles. Till then. -Solid Shark


	22. Chapter 22: Flames of War

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Morgenroete Facility, April 13th, C.E. 71

* * *

Ken DiFalco rested, almost boneless, in an swivel chair in the small office he occupied above the hangar floor. From here he had done his part to aid in the M1 Astray development project; but now his involvement was effectively at an end, so he took the opportunity to rest. 

To any observer, he might have looked asleep; in actual fact, the ace was deep in martial arts meditation, using that form of rest to supplement the sleep he so desperately needed, but rarely got. Only in such a state could he rest, while still escaping the nightmares that haunted him.

There was a chime at the door, and Erica Simmons stepped in, holding a clipboard. "Commander DiFalco?" she called quietly.

Ken roused himself. "Hello, Erica," he said, when his mind was in the present again. "Something up?"

"This message came in for you a few minutes ago," she informed him, handing him the clipboard. "I thought it might be important enough to interrupt you." She had gotten used to the ex-ZAFT pilot's meditative habits, over the past three weeks, though the first time she saw it she'd thought he'd died in his chair.

"Hmm..." He scanned the header, nodded to himself, and then went rigid. _Wait a minute. This is from- _He looked up, eye narrow. "Care to explain just how this got into your hands, Erica?" he asked quietly, indicating the message... whose origin was the submarine carrier _Hades._

Erica chuckled. "Come now, Falcon, don't look so surprised. I'm not stupid, you know; in fact, I'm actually pretty bright. It didn't take a mobile suit design engineer to realize that the machine which turned up outside our border to aid _Archangel_ was neither Orb, nor Earth Forces or ZAFT; yet it appeared to be a mixture of technology from all three. I know exactly one man who might have the access to obtain the information required for something like that, and one man who might have assembled the technical capability to pull it off. Since it obviously wasn't from the _Archangel,_ it also had to have a nearby ship supporting it; and guess who the one man who could've pulled it off turned out to be?"

Ken tilted his head. "Me, right?"

"Exactly. From there, it wasn't too hard to deduce who your cohorts had to be; and since we happened to have Lowe Guele at hand -someone we _knew_ was able to contact the Gray Demons- it wasn't difficult to make contact with your mysterious helpers." She smiled. "Once they got over the shock, your friends Eldridge and Delaney accepted my offer to act as a conduit to get messages to you; after all, they knew you were working with the Chief Representative already." She shook her head, amused. "_That's_ something I never guessed, let me tell you; but it does explain a few things."

"I'm sure." He frowned. "Wait a minute; Leanne and Tom? What about Sparky?"

"I imagine the message you've got there mentions it; but if it doesn't, I can tell you: Commander Cooper returned to the PLANTs not long after _Archangel_ arrived in Orb. Apparently, if he stayed any longer, it would look suspicious. Can't have the Supreme Council Chairman's top bodyguard missing very long, can you?"

Ken grunted. "If only Master Siegel were still Supreme Chairman." The recent election in the PLANTs had been the realization of a long-held fear of his. Now that he was Chairman of the Supreme Council, he had even more power... and greater influence over the war's course. _GENESIS..._

He shook himself, and turned to the missive from his loyal minions. And before he was through, a slow smile spread across his face; the first trace of real emotion Erica had yet seen from him. "Good news, I take it?"

The ace nodded, handing back the clipboard. "You could say that. Seems Tom has finished construction of ZGMF-X00A Preybird; as it stands now, _Hades_ alone has available to her enough firepower to wipe out almost anything she came across, up to and including some entire fleets."

"I guess that _is_ good news." She leaned against the office wall. "So, I hear you'll be leaving soon," she said, changing the subject.

Ken shrugged. "That's what they tell me. Repairs will be completed sometime tomorrow, and we're scheduled to leave a day after that. Your people do good work, Erica."

"Thanks." Erica sighed. "Not quite as good as I'd hoped, though."

He raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"We've been looking over the problem for a couple weeks now, but I'm afraid we still haven't found a solution to your problem." She nodded at his chest. "We're just not sure what we're dealing with, with that prosthetic of yours."

Ken went rigid with surprise. "How did you know about that?" he whispered harshly, startled in the extreme. "My medical records-"

"Don't exist, I know." Erica smiled. "But come now, Falcon; it wasn't _that_ hard to figure out. At least, not for an engineer." She began to tick off points on her fingers. "One: you seem to tire very easily, to a degree that can't be entirely accounted for by gravity. Two: Raptor's generator network has been modified with a purpose-built power-shunt to a jack in the cockpit, which serves no apparent purpose... except that it looks to match something that's been observed on your flightsuit. And three: this facility's internal sensors have noticed something peculiar about your body's bio-electric field. They're sensitive enough to notice those of regular human beings, so yours was easy to spot as being... different."

He grimaced. "Hadn't thought of that; well, it's only pride that makes me conceal it, I suppose. I do appreciate the effort, by the way."

"You'd probably appreciate it more if we'd been able to do something about it," she said dryly, and stepped closer. "May I?"

Ken nodded, and doffed his trench coat, opened the tunic beneath, and finally peeled aside the removable patch of his custom shirt covering the left side of his chest. Beneath, the alloy chestplate gleamed, featureless save for a power socket, several blinking status lights, and an access plate.

Erica lightly touched the metal plate, tracing its lines. "Heart," she murmured to herself, "one lung... and several ribs, right?" She looked up. "Endymion?"

He nodded again. "Yeah. I was actually listed as KIA for a couple of hours, before they decided I was going to make it after all."

"Mm. Powered by your body's bio-electric field... but with a model this old, I'm guessing it doesn't work too well when your heart rate and breathing increase." She nodded to herself. "Which explains the modifications to Raptor's power system, and those power packs on your belt."

"Exactly." Ken grimaced. "Unfortunately, I'm not perfect... and neither is my memory. I have, from time to time, forgotten to connect extra power during combat situations, and the results are... unpleasant. Believe me when I say that a heart attack is less than fun."

"I'll take your word for it." Erica stepped back. "I wish we could help you, Falcon... but the only thing I can think of would be a complete replacement, and that would take..."

"Weeks, at least; weeks we don't have." He shrugged. "In the end, it's of little consequence; I learned to live with this particular problem quite a while ago." The ace changed the subject. "So, what about the Raptor? What kind of shape is it in?"

"Could be worse," the engineer admitted. "On the other hand, it could be better, too. We've reinforced it as best we can... but I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before the stress fractures tear the whole thing apart. Sooner or later, it'll fall apart on you... and I'm betting on sooner." She sighed. "I'd be surprised if it lasts more than a couple more sorties, Falcon."

"I see." Ken rubbed his eyepatch. "Well, can't be helped; and I imagine _Hades_ will be shadowing us at least till we reach the Tropic of Cancer, so it won't be long before I can transfer to Preybird." He stuck out his hand. "Thanks for your help, Erica."

"Anytime, Falcon."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Colonel Ledonir Kisaka nodded at the map display on the monitor. "As you can see, the forces of both sides are preparing for a massive assault against the Panama Spaceport. ZAFT's strength is gathering for the attack, while your own Earth Forces are summoning everything available to defend it." 

Mu nodded. "Yeah, I hear they've been planning this attack against Panama for months; or at least, that's what Intelligence thinks."

Kisaka nodded agreement. "Indeed; I might also suggest that you ask your Commander DiFalco for more details. Rumor has it that he was involved in planning the operation, so he ought to have additional information."

Natarle shook her head. "We already tried that; but he wouldn't answer. Not surprising, really. He told Admiral Halberton outright that what he wants is a stalemate, and since the loss of our last mass driver would hurt our ability to prosecute the war, it's not surprising he won't tell us anything about it."

"A point," he admitted. "In any case, this buildup of ZAFT forces is even drawing in the usual oceanic patrols, leaving large sections of the Pacific clear. This could work in your favor; this could well reduce or even eliminate the opposition that would otherwise be in your path."

Murrue frowned. "How reliable is your intelligence?"

Kisaka shrugged. "Hard to say; we're in a bit of a difficult situation with intelligence gathering, you see: we want the information... but not badly enough to risk stirring up a hornet's nest. My belief is that this information is reliable, but that's just my opinion."

She nodded slowly. "What about the team that was pursuing us before?"

"Yeah," Sophia agreed. "They seemed pretty persistent; and the Le Creuset team won't give up that easily. They could still be a threat."

The colonel frowned. "No ZAFT ships have been seen in the area lately," he said slowly (it wasn't quite true, but the single submarine they'd detected didn't truly belong to ZAFT). "They may be running deep and silent out beyond the border, but if so, we haven't seen them. They may have just given up and left."

"I suppose it's a chance we'll have to take," Mu murmured. "And I suppose even Rau Le Creuset-" whom he knew perfectly well was nowhere near "-couldn't just sit in place for three weeks with nothing to show for it. Even ZAFT wouldn't let someone like him stay on his pet project that long."

"In any case," Neumann put in, "once we're beyond the Tropic of Cancer, we'll be safe enough; ZAFT knows that they don't stand a chance within Alaska's air-defense zone."

Natarle nodded absently at that, and turned to something else that had been bothering her. "Something I've been wondering about, Colonel..." she said slowly. "They say that Representative Athha didn't know anything about the G-weapons and this ship... but can it be true?"

Murrue started to snap at the lieutenant for her impertinence, but Kisaka replied affably enough, though he appeared slightly uncertain himself. "As far as I know," he told her, "he had no knowledge of the whole affair. I _do_ know that he wasn't actually involved it; and if you'd asked me the day we came here, I'd have said he didn't even know about it. That's still what I'd prefer o believe... but it seems Commander DiFalco doesn't share that view."

Sophia tilted her head. "And just what are the odds my brother's right, do you think?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, really, but I do know the Grimaldi Falcon's reputation; so I know not to bet against him." The colonel changed the subject. "So, how are the repairs coming along?"

"I'm told they'll be finished sometime tomorrow afternoon," Murrue replied. "Morgenroete does good work, it seems."

"That they do; it's why they get most of our military contracts." Kisaka raised his hand in a salute. "You only have a little farther to go; hang in there."

"We will. And, Colonel Kisaka... I'd like to thank you, for everything you've done for us."

He smiled. "It was nothing, Captain; the least I could do. Besides, you helped me bring our headstrong, runaway princess home. For that, I should be thanking _you."_ The smile broadened. "And, though I have no family left there, Tassil happens to be my hometown."

Sophia's eyebrows went up. "So _that's_ why..."

"Yes; that and for Lady Cagalli's protection. I knew our victory would be temporary, but I couldn't just sit by and let things continue as they were." Kisaka saluted again. "Good luck on your journey, Captain Ramius."

"Thank you, Colonel," Murrue said, and returned the salute.

* * *

Athha Residence, April 14th, C. E. 71

* * *

The day before _Archangel_ was scheduled to leave Onogoro and depart Orb's territory at last, Ken and Cagalli chose to say their goodbyes in private; if for no other reason than to keep the ace's secrets... like the fact that he was capable of being cheerful. 

"So you'll be leaving tomorrow, huh?" Cagalli said, sounding a little bitter.

"Yeah." Ken was leaning against a wall, arms folded over his trench coat. "Now that _Archangel_'s repairs are complete, it's time to move out again."

She nodded. "I wish I was going with you," she said, voice _definitely_ bitter now. "But my father won't let me; not this time."

"I heard," he said sympathetically. "I suppose that's that, huh? Though in your place, I'd probably ignore him completely, and go my own way."

Cagalli looked at him skeptically. "Don't tell me you'd find it _that_ easy to go against what your own father wanted you to do."

"On the contrary, I've done that kind of thing before." Ken smiled slightly. "What, you didn't know? My father was most emphatically against my joining ZAFT."

She blinked. "He was?"

"Oh, yeah; he said it was an -expletive-deleted- 'stupid thing to do'." He chuckled. "But, being young, idealistic, and stupid, I ignored him, and joined up anyway. Good thing ZAFT provided housing for me after that; Dad didn't speak to me for months after that." His face closed. "Dearka's father was also against his joining ZAFT... but we did what we thought was right. And look where that got us."

Cagalli shook her head. "You know, sometimes I wonder how you got a reputation for being so brilliant; but I never wonder where you got your reputation for being a man of action. I can't imagine how my father would've reacted if _I'd_ tried something like that."

"Probably not well," Ken conceded. "I daresay Lord Uzumi isn't as easygoing as Dad was; he'd have reacted much the way Sophia did to learning I'd joined ZAFT... except that he'd have the power to do something about it."

"Yeah..." She looked at the floor. "Listen, Ken, take care of yourself out there, okay? I didn't spend that much time in a gunner's seat, getting shot up, outmaneuvered, and lost, just to see you get yourself blown up." The girl hesitated. "And... take care of Kira would you? If anything, he's even more reckless than _you_ are, even if he does have a talent for improvising."

He nodded firmly. "I'll do my best, partner; I know you're fond of him."

Cagalli looked up sharply. "And just what," she said dangerously, "are you implying?"

"Nothing, of course," he replied innocently (and with all the practice he'd had in the area, he did a very good innocent expression). Abruptly, he looked up, and stepped away from the wall. "By the way, partner... there's something I'd like you to have." He reached down his collar, and withdrew his Order of the Nebula.

She blinked as he handed it to her. "Ken...? But... why?"

Ken shrugged. "A memento, if you will; I'd never flown with a gunner before, but I daresay you're one of the best I've ever run into. And besides..." He smiled ruefully. "We're heading for JOSHUA Base, partner; the headquarters of the Earth Alliance military. I don't think it would be smart for me to carry _that_ around, in a place like that."

Cagalli stared at ZAFT's highest award a moment longer, before slipping it around her neck. "Thanks, Ken," she quietly, and gripped his arm. "Be careful out there, okay?"

He nodded. "Bet on it, partner. I'll be just fine."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Kira stared at his friend Tolle in disbelief. "You're _what?"_

In Skygrasper Two's cockpit, wearing a flightsuit, Tolle smiled. "I'm Skygrasper Two's reserve pilot now," he repeated. "When Commander DiFalco isn't available, I'll be taking it up myself."

"Did Lieutenant Badgiruel order this?" Mu demanded, as surprised as Kira.

The younger pilot shook his head. "No, I volunteered; I want to help out _somehow._ Hey, look," he went on, "I've done plenty of simulations, okay? I know I can do this."

"You can't deny it'd be handy to have a backup pilot in case Commander DiFalco can't sortie," Murdoch pointed out. "We've seen how useful these birds are; can't afford to have either of 'em grounded, not with the luck _we_ seem to have."

Kira frowned. "I guess I can understand that," he said slowly. "But... Tolle, I don't think you understand that simulations are different from reality."

"Hey," Tolle pointed out, "_you_ turned out just as good in combat as in the simulators."

"And Ken still doesn't understand it," the Coordinator said stubbornly. "I broke all the rules; just how likely is it that you will, too?"

"I'll be _fine,"_ the Natural pilot said again. "And who knows, maybe I won't be flying it very long anyway." He nodded at the CGUE that still occupied a corner of the hangar. "I hear they gave that thing a Natural-adapted OS, so maybe I'll be flying that soon."

Mu shook his head, imagining Ken's reaction to the notion. _He _might _let the kid fly it... but not with that kind of attitude. As it is, he might survive flying a Skygrasper, but carrying that kind of attitude into battle in a mobile suit..._

Murdoch sighed. "Look, Commander, Ensign, there really isn't much point in arguing about it; Lieutenant Badgiruel confirmed the assignment, so..."

"Lieutenant Badgiruel doesn't have final say over the pilot assignments," Mu said slowly. "Whatever she might think, kid, you'll have to run this past Falcon first."

Tolle smiled. "Already did; he's okay with me flying a Skygrasper."

_I doubt that,_ the Hawk thought. _He may have agreed, but not without reservations... and I'll bet you didn't say a word to him about flying his old CGUE._

Well, the Grimaldi Falcon would get wind of it soon enough, he was sure; he seemed to have an instinct for such thing (possibly evolved after one of his closest friends had tried to cut him to ribbons). And when he did, he'd presumably do something about it...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, April 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

_Archangel_'s long furlough in Orb was over; it was time and past time to resume their journey to JOSHUA Base in Alaska. 

For Murrue, it had been a pleasant enough rest; but she, too, felt the need to be about it once again. Things seemed to be moving again, in some indefinable fashion. Time would not stand still, and neither would the events she felt certain were soon to take place.

An odd tension was in the air aboard the ship now; even Ken seemed anxious about something. Now that she thought about, he'd seemed that way for some time now, as though he'd caught wind of something happening, and feared its coming...

"Message from Orb Headquarters, Captain," Kuzzey reported, breaking into her thoughts. "Message reads: no ZAFT forces detected within range; will proceed according to schedule."

Murrue nodded. "Very well, then. Prepare to move out."

"Ma'am," he said after a moment, "we're getting another message. Former Representative Athha has arrived on the dock; and he's requesting that Kira come out on the upper deck at once."

She turned to look at the young com operator, puzzled. "Does the message say why?"

"No, Captain."

"Hmm..." Murrue thought about it, and finally shrugged. "All right; please relay the message to Ensign Yamato."

"Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Atop Starboard Gottfried

* * *

It was with a certain amount of confusion that Kira Yamato ascended the stairs and exited the hatch onto the ship's upper deck. He had no idea what on earth Orb's former Chief Representative could want with him just when the _Archangel_ was about to leave. 

_Maybe Ken could explain,_ he thought to himself, _but who knows where _he _is._ The ace had pulled a disappearing act, and was currently nowhere to be found among his usual haunts.

So, bemused, the young Coordinator walked to the railing... and was startled by the voice he heard calling up to him. "Kira!"

Kira looked down, to see a certain blonde-haired girl in a white uniform racing for the _Archangel_'s hatch. "Cagalli?" He blinked, even more confused. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Look up!" she told him, pointing urgently toward an observation room overlooking the drydock. "Your parents are here! See?"

His eyes snapped to the window, and he saw that Lord Uzumi, Erica Simmons, and Ledonir Kisaka were there, looking at him... and so, indeed, were his parents, waving at him. His mother and father both, his mother looking anxious, his father... He wasn't sure what his father might be thinking.

But Kira _was_ sure of one thing: the cold feeling in his gut when he looked at them. Remembering the questions he had, the guilt he felt... all the reasons he'd avoided meeting with them during the three weeks _Archangel_ remained in Orb.

He swallowed hard, not knowing what to do, and he saw his mother look away, saddened by something, while his father looked at him for a moment... and nodded, as if in acceptance or acknowledgment. What that look meant, the young pilot wasn't sure...

Footsteps came up the same stairs he had ascended moments before. "Why...?" Cagalli panted, worn out from her hurried search. "Why won't you see them...?" Walking slowly to his side, she wondered; why would her friend have so carefully, persistently avoided seeing his own parents? _Why won't you meet with them now, when you're just about to leave again?_ "Come on, Kira, say something to..." Her voice trailed off, for now, looking into the young man's eyes, she realized there _was_ something wrong.

Before his mind's eye, Kira saw himself battling blade-to-blade with the Aegis, stabbing the Duel right by the cockpit, moving slowly, so slowly, in an attempt to save a shuttle full of refugees... Scenes of battle after battle; looking at Andrew Waltfeld over the sights of a pistol...

His vision blurred as unshed tears filled his eyes. "Cagalli..." he whispered. "Could you tell them... sorry, but... not now? For me?" A hand closed into a fist. "I just don't think... that right now... is the right time..." He couldn't finish, couldn't put his feelings into words.

He didn't need to. Cagalli looked into his eyes again, and understood. "Okay," she told him, equally quietly. "I will."

Kira nodded. "Thanks." He turned, and walked slowly back to the hatch. But then he paused, and looked over his shoulder, not quite meeting her eyes. "Take care, Cagalli, okay? Be careful... and thank you. For everything."

He turned away once more... but she wasn't letting him go _that_ easy. "Kira!" Taking a couple of running steps, the princess practically threw herself at him, to his shock, catching him in a tight embrace.

Kira blinked rapidly, startled out of his depression. "Uh... Cagalli...?"

"Listen..." Cagalli whispered in his ear. "Don't get killed, okay? If you do... I'll never forgive you..."

He smiled, tears now running free down his face, and returned the embrace. "Don't you worry," he told her. "I _will_ be coming back." Indeed, the realization that he _did_ have something to come back to -besides the parents he didn't want to see right now- helped immensely... especially in the wake of his explosive breakup with Flay.

She still didn't release him; not right away. Instead, she fastened something around his neck, a pendant of some sort. "This is an amulet of the goddess Haumea," she informed him. "It protects its bearer."

Kira closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll be back... as soon as I can." He vowed to himself then and there that he would allow nothing to stand in the way of his return... not even Athrun.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge/Onogoro Drydock

* * *

"We're moving out, Captain," Neumann reported. "According to current schedule, we'll be crossing the Orb border in less than an hour." 

Murrue nodded. "Thank you; carry on."

As the great hatch yawned open, permitting the Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel_ to return to the open sea, a figure stood on the pier, watching. Still in her white uniform, Cagalli Yula Athha stood silent, observing the ship's departure. The great vessel carried with her the only people who had ever treated the "princess" as an ordinary human being... and now, after two months in their company, Cagalli felt almost lost.

_And Father doesn't understand,_ she thought bitterly. _I don't _care _if I'm the "heir of Orb"; I just want to be treated like anyone else... to be with the few friends I have, and the only people who don't think I'm somehow "superior" because of my birth..._ But Lord Uzumi had been adamant, and there wasn't much she could do about it right now.

Cagalli just wished she had the guts her partner Ken had displayed in joining ZAFT against _his_ father's wishes... but, unfortunately, Lord Uzumi had the power to do something about it, so here she stayed.

"Still no enemy forces detected in the area, Captain," Pal reported. "The Fleet is proceeding according to schedule."

Sai twisted in his seat. "They're escorting us out?"

Tonomura nodded. "Yeah. See, if we're surround by a large number of ships, it'll be much harder to identify us; the Orb Fleet is essentially acting as camouflage."

"There's only one problem," Ken commented, entering the Bridge. "The fact that there is no way anyone will mistake an _Archangel_-class for an Orb Aegis ship if they manage to get a visual on us. It _is_ an asset against radar and sonar detection, though," he granted. "The number of signatures will confuse them; particularly sonar."

Natarle glanced up from CIC. "Are you sure, Commander?"

"Lieutenant, need I remind you that, as a former high-ranking ZAFT officer, I know a great deal about how ZAFT systems work?"

She grimaced. As a matter of fact, she was so used to the Grimaldi Falcon's presence by now that it _had_ slipped her mind. "Of course, Commander."

"Well, we should be fine, for now," Murrue remarked, turning to face the ace, "since- Hm? Falcon... why are you in flight gear?"

Ken was indeed wearing his custom flightsuit, helmet tucked under his arm, and he looked grim. "We're going to be attacked as soon as we cross the Orb border," he informed her. "They know where we are."

Natarle started. "How?" she demanded. "And why haven't we detected anything?"

"We haven't detected anything because they could afford to hang back. And as for how they know..." His eye narrowed. "A ZAFT team infiltrated Onogoro while we were there. Dearka Elsman, for one, was just outside the Morgenroete facility not long ago; and I have no doubt he recognized me."

Murrue swallowed a curse. "Why didn't you tell us that before?"

He met her gaze calmly. "Because, under the circumstances, there was nothing anyone could've done but worry; and we had enough on our plates as it was. Besides, they would've been waiting for us no matter what we did; you know that."

She made a mental note to buttonhole the pilot a little more often; this habit of his of keeping things to himself was a little aggravating at times. "Better get to your machine then, Falcon, and tell Kira to do the same."

"There's no need." The ace returned to the hatch. "He already knows..."

She had no time to puzzle out that remark; instead, she activated her intercom. "Sophia, you'd better report to Skygrasper Two; Falcon says we're going to be under attack soon."

_"Sorry, Murrue,"_ Sophia said, voice taut with sudden tension. _"But I can't; Chief Murdoch needs me down here. Some kind of electrical fault, we think."_ She paused. _"I hate to say it, but I think it's time to see if Crewman Koenig really_ is _ready for this."_

Murrue froze, not liking the notion... but also knowing how important it was to have everything they had up and flying. "Crewman Koenig?" she said at last. "I won't order you to; but I must ask if you're willing to take Skygrasper Two up."

Tolle looked up from his seat next to Neumann, startled. "Ma'am? Uh... yes, Ma'am," he said, as firmly as he could... while trying to ignore Mir's gasp. "I'll do it, Captain."

She nodded reluctantly. "Then get to it, Crewman; I don't think we'll have much warning."

* * *

"Message from Fleet, Captain," Kuzzey called. "'This is where we turn back. We wish all of you the best of luck.'" 

Murrue nodded tightly. "Thank you; and send a reply: 'We appreciated your escort'." She looked over at Neumann. "Maximum combat speed as soon as we cross the border," she ordered. "CIC, begin preparations for combat."

"Yes, Ma'am." Natarle didn't question the orders; she had as much faith as her captain in the instincts -and knowledge- of the ex-ZAFT ace who had warned them of the impending attack. "Prepare smoke dischargers," she directed. "We'll try something a little more elaborate this time."

"I wonder if there's any chance that mystery mobile suit will turn up again," Sai said quietly to Mir. "Last time, it helped out a lot."

"I don't think we can count on that," she replied. "Even if it _is_ friendly, I think we have to rely on ourselves to handle this one."

"I guess you're right..."

* * *

_Cousteau,_ Hangar

* * *

The four pilots of the Zala team were already in their machines when the alert came from the Bridge. _"There's a ship breaking off from the main formation. Checking catalogue... it's the legged ship!"_

Yzak, the group's only skeptic, found himself actually pleased to be wrong for once... even if it meant that gutless bastard Athrun was right. _All right... today, Strike, I pay you back for what you did to me. I won't let that kind of humiliation pass..._

"Here we go," Nicol murmured. "Are we ready?"

Dearka nodded, stomach clenching. "Yeah; Buster's ready for takeoff." _Please, Falcon... don't make me do this. Why won't you see reason?_

"We're launching immediately," Athrun announced. "That ship goes down today!"

The submarine rose to the surface, and the upper hatches opened, permitting the linear accelerator rails to extend. They charged up, and four mobile suits spat into the sky.

GAT-X303 Aegis was the first out, landing easily on its Guul, and its fellows swiftly followed. This was a target they'd been chasing for months; now it was time to bring an end to the long mission... no matter what it took. They had the advantage in firepower; the only thing that could possibly wreck their chances today was if that mysterious interloper turned up again.

At least, they _thought_ that was their only chance of failure...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge/Catapults

* * *

"Detecting _Vosgulov_-class submarine carrier surfacing," Tonomura reported tightly. "Launch hatches seem to be opening..." 

"Detecting three... no, four mobile suits," Pal reported. "Checking... Aegis, Buster, Blitz, and Duel."

Murrue clenched her teeth. "Just as we expected... Very well, prepare for undersea and air battle. Charge Gottfrieds, ready Valiants."

"Activate smoke dischargers," Natarle ordered. "Launch mobile weapons according to plan."

"Yes, Ma'am," Mir acknowledged. "Falcon, Kira? Proceed according to plan." She switched to her link with the port catapult. "Skygraspers One and Two, prepare for launch."

_"Mu La Flaga, roger that."_

There was a slight hesitation from the other machine. _"Right,"_ Tolle said finally. _"I'm ready."_

"Be careful, Tolle..."

Down in the catapults, Mu nodded to himself. "Should've figured it wouldn't be any easier to get _out_ of Orb's territory... Hey, Koenig! You ready?"

"Y-yes, sir," Tolle replied.

"Hey, don't be nervous," the Hawk advised him. "Just provide targeting data for the Strike and Raptor, and try not to get hit. Piece of cake." He gripped his flight stick. "Mu La Flaga, launching!"

His fighter sped out into the sky, and was quickly replaced by Sophia's blue-and-gold machine. "Skygrasper Koenig," he reported, voice a little steadier now. "I'm taking off!"

He'd never launched from a catapult before, and he felt like he'd been kicked in the gut; but then he was airborne, flying under his own power.

In the starboard catapult, Strike and Raptor stood side by side. Strike bore the full Launcher Striker pack, while Raptor settled for the Agni alone; together, they'd rip apart anything that got in their path. "Connecting power conduits," Kira reported for both of them, as their machines linked their cannons with _Archangel_'s main power. "Strike and Raptor, standing by."

Things were about to get interesting.

* * *

Battlefield, Beyond Orb Border

* * *

"Smokescreen?" Yzak hissed. "Must be DiFalco's trick!" 

Dearka sighed. "Yzak, do you have to blame _everything_ on Falcon? He doesn't come up with _every_ new trick the legged ship throws at us." Then a pair of aircraft rocketed out of the smoke, flying straight at them, and he amended, "Just most of them."

"Those two fighters are out here again," Athrun murmured. "But there's something..." He triggered his beam rifle, and had the satisfaction of watching the two fighters break away. "The blue-and-gold machine isn't flying as well this time," he called. "Concentrate on the other one."

"Roger that," Nicol acknowledged.

Mu, meanwhile, nodded approvingly at Tolle's evasive maneuver. "Okay, not bad at all. Now, stay above the fighting, and get targeting data to Strike and Raptor."

"Yes, sir." Tolle keyed his radio. "Strike, Raptor? This is Skygrasper Koenig. I'm relaying the enemies' positions and the targeting data to you."

Kira swallowed. _Be careful, Tolle._ "Roger that," he confirmed, activating his targeting screen.

Ken did the same (even he couldn't manually target what he couldn't see). "Got it. Go for it, Tolle." Then he opened his mouth, and screamed the peregrine falcon's hunting call.

Athrun was at a complete loss, wondering what the "legged ship" was up to... until hyper-impulse blasts started drilling out of the smokescreen. "Everyone scatter!" he ordered, boosting power to his Guul's engines. "They're both using hyper-impulse cannons!"

"That won't last," Dearka muttered, flinging himself backward to avoid a crimson blast. "That's not Falcon's style at all..." No, something else was going on, he was sure; the legged ship was pulling out all the stops for this battle. This one would be decisive...

"They're evading," Tolle reported. "I don't think this is working."

"It isn't," Ken agreed. "This is like trying to call in fire support from surface ships against jet fighters... All right. Kira, you ready?"

Kira nodded, releasing the power coupling from his Agni. "Let's go, Ken."

Raptor's Agni simply dropped to the catapult's deck; he would have no need of it in this situation. "Here we go, kid," he murmured to himself. "Time to see if Raptor will hold together through one more battle..." Ken's machine sprang off the deck, thrusters firing... beam sabers igniting.

* * *

_Hades,_ Bridge

* * *

"There seems to be a battle going on above us," Leanne remarked. "My cousin seems to be involved, along with the rest of his team... and the Boss." She stared at the visual display a moment longer, before turning to the gray-haired young engineer. "Can we help them, Tom?" 

Tom shook his head. "No. The only mobile suits we have ready for action are standard ZAFT models; we can't afford to use those until we openly break with Patrick's faction. Preybird won't be ready for another day or so, either... so no. I'm sorry, Leanne, but there's nothing we can do."

She clenched a fist. "Then at least keep us in the area," she said tautly. "The Zala team is outmatched today; somebody's going down, and I want to pick up any survivors from the battle."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Of course, Leanne; what do you think we're here for in the first place?"

Leanne nodded silently. _I don't even know which side to root for,_ she thought to herself. _On the one hand, that's my cousin up there; on the other, if the Boss buys it, everything we've done will have been for nothing..._

* * *

Battlefield, Beyond Orb Border

* * *

Athrun had been almost expecting it, but it still came as a rude awakening when the two mobile suits burst out of the smoke, one firing a hyper-impulse cannon, the other swinging a pair of beam sabers. "Watch it!" he warned, exchanging fire with the Strike. 

"You don't have to tell _me_ twice," Dearka told him, and opened fire on Raptor. He was less than surprised to see the shot from his gun launcher hit upon the small shield, while a blade of frozen fire bounced his beam shot right back at him. "This isn't going to be easy," he muttered, dodging his own shot.

"You're going down, Strike!" Yzak snarled, firing his Igelstellungs. "You've gotten lucky before, but not today!" He growled in hate and frustration, seeing the blue-and-white Earth Forces machine juke around his fire... and he cursed in utter rage as a hyper-impulse beam tore through his railgun. "You'll pay for that, Strike!"

_Not today,_ Kira thought, and fired again, now blowing away Duel's beam rifle. _I promised I'd return, and I'm not letting _you _stop me, Duel..._

Dearka cursed in frustration. "Why do we have to keep fighting, Falcon?" he demanded, unleashing a missile barrage.

"Why do we have to keep having this conversation?" Ken countered, CIWS ripping into the salvo. "My answer hasn't changed since the first time we fought... and nor has my intention to leave you alive." He flew in close, evading or destroying everything at him, and Dearka braced himself for the shock of impact...

He was surprised when nothing happened, despite Raptor's sabers flashing entirely too close to Buster's legs. "What the...? Ahh!" The ZAFT pilot cried out in surprise when his Guul simply exploded, dropping him out of the sky. "What just happened?"

Dearka twisted around to look, and, just before the water claimed his machine, he saw Raptor's Death Blossoms clamp back onto its backpack. _I'm getting _really _tired of that..._

"Dearka!" Athrun called. "Hold on; I'm coming- No!" Mu's Skygrasper shot across his path, firing beams from both its turret and the beam rifle attached to its side, and Aegis was forced to turn away. "Bastard," the blue-haired pilot muttered.

"Sorry, Dearka," Ken murmured. "But I can't let anything stop us. We've come too far... and still have a long way to go."

Kira was losing the impetus of his initial thruster-assisted jump -unlike the Aile, the Launcher Striker wasn't equipped for atmospheric flight- and decided now was the time to take the Duel completely out of the fight. Eyes narrow, he stared into his targeting scanner... and pulled the trigger, unleashing another bolt of high-energy fury at his enemy.

Yzak snarled in impotent rage as his Guul detonated. Had his machine not been equipped with PSA, the resulting shrapnel would've torn into him; as it was, the loss of the subflight lifter was sufficient to drop him from the sky. "You'll pay, Strike!" he screamed. "One day, you'll pay for everything you've done to me!"

Athrun cursed bitterly. Now only he and Nicol remained in the sky, and it was becoming increasingly clear how inadequate that truly was... especially with two Skygraspers and the traitorous Grimaldi Falcon flitting about, firing at targets of opportunity.

There was still, however, a chance to complete the mission, and he arrowed in on the smokescreen surrounding the _Archangel._ "You're going down today, legged ship."

He was, however, slightly puzzled by the way the Strike was confidently dropping out of the sky... and he realized at the last instant that he'd misjudged the _Archangel_'s location. His realization was immediately confirmed by four streams of emerald energy that emerged from the mist.

Aegis rocketed up and away, narrowly avoiding being vaporized, while Blitz slid sideways. "We're in trouble, Athrun," Nicol warned.

"I know." Athrun's eyes narrowed. "That ship is practically indestructible..."

Now Kira landed on the _Archangel_'s bow deck, and let the Launcher Striker fall away. "Commander," he called. "I need a replacement Striker pack."

"On the way, kid," Mu responded, and flipped the appropriate switches. "Here it comes; don't drop it."

"Not to worry." Strike leapt back into the air with all the power available to it... and the Aile wings and thrusters locked neatly onto its shoulders, while its hands easily caught the rifle and shield. "You ready, Ken?" Kira called to his mentor.

"You got it, amigo," Ken acknowledged. "Let's get them."

The twin machines streaked across the sky toward Athrun and Nicol, and the Aegis' pilot cursed. "Here they come, Nicol," he warned. "Watch yourself."

"Got it, Athrun." Raptor was slashing across the sky straight at the Blitz, and Nicol activated the Trikeros system's beam saber. He knew the Grimaldi Falcon's fondness for melee combat, and he had no intention of being caught flatfooted.

Ken noticed this, and smiled slightly. _Unfortunately, Nicol,_ he thought to himself, _you've forgotten my _other _habit..._ Letting out another ascending wail, he powered even higher into the sky, till he was well over a hundred meters higher than Blitz... and stooped, like a giant bird of prey.

Nicol blinked, realizing that he'd made an error. He should've stayed back and used to his rifle; for now there was no way he was stopping the machine that dove at him. With that much momentum, it would go right past... and probably devastate his machine on the way by. Still, he wasn't the time to just give up without a fight, and, raising his Trikeros, he prepared himself to take his foe with him into oblivion.

Had it been Ken's intention to _kill_ Nicol, he might well have lost his life in the process, impaled by his own kinetic energy upon Blitz's saber. But he wasn't going for a straight-out, killing blow. Instead, he stayed a few meters back from Blitz... and so his crimson blade cut ahead of him, ripping through the joint connecting right arm to torso.

Nicol cried out in surprise, and met then what the _other_ purpose of the attack had been; in a maneuver that could not have been better coordinated if they'd tried, Raptor fell past... and Strike rushed into the gap left by the effective destruction of Blitz's offensive capability. The vicious shoulder tackle knocked the dark machine right off its Guul, sending it down to the ocean below.

Athrun cursed viciously. "Nicol!" Now Strike had taken over Blitz's Guul, aiming it straight at Aegis, and the ZAFT pilot reached a decision. _I'm sorry, Kira... but you have to be stopped._

While Raptor returned to the _Archangel_ -the use of full thrusters and Death Blossoms had effectively exhausted Ken's power supply... and with it, the thing that kept his heart and lung running properly in the heat of battle- Kira and Athrun exchanged beam fire. Bolts of emerald death arced across the sky, briefly connecting the machines in bright light as their shields dispelled the fierce barrage.

In one sense, Athrun had the upper hand; he had a far better grasp of how to use a Guul. On the other hand, Kira had been fighting in atmosphere longer than his old friend, and now knew its vagaries well. Each shot he fired was precise, taking into account every variable the atmosphere imposed... and one of them finally hit its mark.

Athrun could only marvel at how much Kira's skill had improved in the past few months, even while his Guul exploded; his only consolation was that the Strike's stolen Guul went with it, and that was small comfort, considering that the Earth Forces machine didn't need it to fly in atmosphere.

The ZAFT pilot did the only thing left to him. Aegis could maintain flight in atmosphere very briefly in mobile armor mode, so he converted it to the fearsome, clawed form, even knowing that the Scylla would drain his power very fast. He fired two quick shots at the Strike, trying to snatch some victory from this doomed battle; but he wasn't even really surprised when the machine dodged them both.

Nor was that his only difficulty. _Archangel_ had a bead on him again, and Natarle Badgiruel didn't hesitate to order the Gottfrieds to fire. The blasts of energy would have incinerated even a G-weapon with a direct hit; as it was, even the graze was sufficient to force Athrun _completely_ out of the sky.

Aegis dropped rapidly, transforming on the way down, and landed heavily on a small island. _I've lost, _Athrun thought. _Time to cut to our losses, and get out of here... before anything _else _happens. Wait- what's-_

Strike suddenly slammed down right in front of him, a beam saber in one hand. "Athrun, stop!" Kira shouted. "This battle's over!"

Athrun clenched his fists. "Not yet," he shot back. "Not while you and I still face each other with blades between us!" Casting aside his shield, he activated both arm-mounted beam sabers; golden flame came to life, raised in a guarding stance. "So come on! Strike me down... just like you said you would!"

His blades came down in a crossing slash; but Kira was ready for it. He forced one away with his shield, and batted the other aside with his own energy blade. "No more, Athrun! I don't want to fight you anymore!"

"It's too late for that!" Undeterred, Aegis charged forward... and this time got a fist in the face for its trouble, knocking it to the ground; the red armor swiftly faded away, leaving the gray of a machine unprotected by Phase-shift armor.

_Is this how it has to end?_ Kira thought despairingly. _Do I... do I have to... destroy him...?_

"What are you waiting for?" Athrun demanded. "Just finish me, Kira!"

Reluctantly, Strike's saber came up... and another's shout came across the airwaves.

"Athrun, get out of there!"

Both pilots whipped their heads around to look, and Blitz coalesced into existence, running toward them. In its remaining hand it held a kinetic penetrator dart; Nicol knew it wouldn't hurt Phase-shift, but he also knew it might give Athrun the distraction he needed to escape... to survive.

Kira didn't want to do it; but now he was reacting on instinct alone, far too fast for conscious thought to keep up. His saber swept once, out to the side, and cut the lancer dart in half. Then it came back... the Strike reared back from its attacker... and the blade of frozen fire stabbed forward, into Blitz's torso.

Athrun stared in mingled shock and horror. Blitz was sparking, clearly only moments from total destruction, as its overtaxed battery began to give way... _Nicol!_

In his cockpit, Nicol smiled, feeling the energy wash over him. "Athrun... run..." He thought he heard music... and then the wash of energy became an eruption. For Nicol Amalfi, the world went black, and he knew no more...

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has departed Orb, and, following the Zala team's immediate attack, Blitz has been destroyed. Now, it is but a short time before they return the favor by destroying some of _Archangel_'s machines… 

Yeah, I know; fast update. Well, I just seemed to have an easy time writing this one; I imagine the next chapter will take somewhat longer. Till then, let me know what you think. -Solid Shark


	23. Chapter 23: Grapes of Wrath

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Battlefield, Beyond Orb Border, April 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

Athrun stared, horrified, at the collection of scrap metal that moments before had been Nicol Amalfi's GAT-X207 Blitz. _N-Nicol...? No... it... it can't be... "Nicol!"_

Duel and Buster burst out of the water, before stopping in shock. "Is that...?" Dearka whispered, stunned by the unexpected sight.

"Nicol..." Yzak breathed. "He's... he's..." His face twisted in fury, and he whipped his machine around toward the Strike. "You did this..." he hissed. "You'll die for this, Strike!"

Kira, for his part, was nearly as stunned as the Zala team. "I... I didn't mean to..." He'd reacted on instinct; before he had a chance to think it through, his beam saber had plunged into Blitz's cockpit. There'd been a few moments of watching the ZAFT machine spark... and then it had detonated, hurling pieces of itself everywhere; the remains of the upper torso weren't even in sight.

Rage filled Dearka. "Is this what your 'plan' has led to, Falcon?" he shouted at the slate-gray machine perched high atop _Archangel_'s deck. "Where you kill your own comrades; some of the very people you helped train?"

Ken clenched his hands on his controls. "It wasn't supposed to be this way," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Leanne..." His subordinate would be devastated, he knew; and the fact that his own protégé had done it wouldn't make it any easier on her. "This wasn't meant to be..."

_"Ensign Yamato!"_ Natarle snapped over the radio. _"What are you waiting for? Return to the ship at once! There's no need to remain here any longer."_

Kira jerked his head up, startled to his senses, and looked around; only then did he realize that he was surrounded by three mobile suits, piloted by three very, very irate pilots. _I have to get out of here,_ he thought, and triggered Strike's verniers.

Yzak snarled in impotent rage, and Dearka fired off a few useless shots at the fleeing mobile suit. "We won't let this stand, Falcon!" Buster's pilot yelled. "You and your friend have gone too far now! I won't hold back anymore!"

The ex-ZAFT ace closed his eye. _Dearka, no..._ Watching Kira approach, he felt his stomach clench. Their problems with the ZAFT G-weapons weren't over; and next time, he knew they'd be out for blood. Even Dearka wouldn't hesitate now, after losing a teammate.

_It's just like after the Bloody Valentine,_ Ken thought bleakly. _Only this time... _I'm _the target..._

Unconcerned by the trio of nearly-helpless mobile suits beneath her, _Archangel_ soared onward, oblivious to the destruction that had just filled the tiny, nameless island below.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Strike powered down at last, and the cockpit opened, permitting a bone-weary Kira Yamato to exit, descending the zip line to the deck. Right now, what he wanted most was rest... and he feared his sleep would be filled with images of the Blitz exploding, and Athrun's anguished cry.

Waiting for him at the deck was a cluster of mechanics, all cheering; among them was Chief Kojiro Murdoch, with a broad grin on his face. "All right, kid!" he said happily. "You got one of them this time! Congratulations!"

Kira gave him a haunted, almost dead look. _Congratulations...? Do you even know what I just did out there? Why... what about that is so good?_

Finally, surrounded by the almost-ecstatic mechanics, he couldn't take it anymore. "Will you stop it?" he snarled. "I just killed someone! What's so good about _that?"_

Nearby, Ken slid noiselessly to the deck, and he exchanged glances with his older brother Mu, also walking up. _We need to get him out of here,_ he thought to himself.

A puzzled mechanic tilted his head. "Hey, you've been doing this for months; thought you'd be used to it by now..."

Mu suddenly forced a gap in the group. "Leave him alone, you guys!" he snapped angrily. "Can't you see the kid's exhausted? Just let him go; he needs some sleep." He glared at each in turn. "And get back to work; I don't think that'll be our last battle before we reach Alaska." He turned to the younger pilot. "C'mon, Kira; let's get out of here."

Kira didn't even look at him; just nodded slightly, and stalked away, toward the hatch leading to the rest of the ship.

Ken watched him through narrowed eyes. _I should've known. That furlough in Orb wasn't good enough; he just can't take the stress. He needs to go someplace else for awhile, someplace where he isn't flying or even working on mobile suits..._

He didn't attempt to follow his protégé; this was one of those times when he honestly wasn't sure what to tell him. He could see what the problem was... but Ken himself had never had any difficulties killing _enemy_ -as opposed to ZAFT- forces. Not since the Bloody Valentine, anyway. _"We do the jobs we wish no one had to do,"_ he'd once told Nicol Amalfi, the pilot Kira had just killed. _"But we do it anyway... and I have no regrets. I wish the Earth Forces wouldn't send people out to die, but regrets are for those who've been fighting for something they don't believe in; who've done something they truly believe to be wrong."_ Admittedly, he hadn't anticipated the problem of having to kill his own comrades... but that was a whole different issue.

Shaking his head sadly, the ace walked off into another area of the ship.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor

* * *

It didn't take long for Mu to catch up with the young pilot; for all that his strides were angry, they weren't particularly fast. "Kira!" he called.

Kira didn't answer; just kept on walking, and the Hawk sighed to himself. _I guess it isn't a surprise... the kid's been a little too close to falling apart for weeks. But this... this is _really _bad timing, and I need to get his head straightened out._

"Kira," he said more forcefully, gripping the youth's shoulder. "They didn't mean to upset you," he went on, more gently. "And you know... we all consider you one of us."

Kira didn't looked at him. "Yeah, I know that."

Mu hissed to himself. "We are _not_ murderers, Kira," he told him firmly. "But we _are_ soldiers... and we're in the middle of a war!" He stared hard into Kira's eyes. "If you don't get them, they'll get you," he said harshly. "That goes for you, for me, for _all_ of us!"

Kira's face twisted in fury. "I _know_ that!"

The Hawk didn't back down. "Get a grip, kid, or it'll cost you your life."

The youth glared back at him. "I won't die, sir," he bit out. "I can't afford to." With that, he pulled himself out of Mu's grip, and stalked away.

The pilot sighed, feeling years older. "Well, _that_ went well," he muttered under his breath. "If looks could kill, I'd be..."

"Cooked," Ken agreed, stepping out of a side corridor; he was back in regular uniform, with his usual trench coat over it. "I don't remember _ever_ seeing him that angry."

Mu nodded wearily. "Be nice if I had any idea _why_ he's acting like that. I mean, it's not like it's his first kill; he took out Miguel Aiman at Heliopolis, and that was only the beginning. We've been in enough battles since then -especially in the desert..."

The Grimaldi Falcon hesitated. _If he only knew... well, maybe now _is _the time..._ "I'll tell you what's different about this time," he said finally. "The pilot of the Blitz was a fellow by the name of Nicol Amalfi, a lad I helped train. More importantly... the commander of that team is one Athrun Zala." He paused. "Athrun Zala went to a certain lunar prep school, in Copernicus... and happens to be Kira's best friend."

Mu blinked. "You're serious?"

"Mm-hmm. That's why the Aegis tried to capture him, outside Artemis; and why they've been a bit half-hearted in their attempts to shoot each other down." The ace smiled thinly (and humorlessly). "He's in the same boat Dearka and I are. Can you blame him for feeling a bit out of sorts?"

The hawk slowly shook his head. "No, I guess not... I never suspected..."

"You weren't supposed to." Ken rubbed his eyepatch. "His classmates knew, though; overheard him talking with Lacus Clyne, or so I gather." He shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't help that he had a fairly explosive breakup with Flay a few days ago."

Mu looked at him sharply. "What? I hadn't heard about that."

"I'm not surprised; as far as I know, besides those two, Cagalli and I are the only people who know." Ken's expression hardened. "I won't lie to you, Mu; I was sorely tempted to test my blade on Flay's flesh that day... after everything she'd done to him."

The Hawk's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'everything she'd done to him'? I thought she was more supportive than anybody else aboard..."

The ace snorted. "Supportive? Sure... because he was a handy tool to use to avenge her father. She was using him, Mu, as a weapon; and from what I can tell, I think she hoped he'd get himself killed in the process." He unconsciously rubbed his metal chestplate. "I know for a fact that she wants _me_ dead."

Mu winced. "The Captain and I suspected _something_ was going on, but nothing like _this..._ Has that girl actually tried to _do_ anything?"

Ken shook his head. "Beyond manipulating Kira? No. She doesn't have the skills or strength to try anything on her own; my guess is that she hoped we'd buy it in battle. She's clever, I'll give her that... but she doesn't quite have the brains to realize that Miriallia and I have been onto her since the desert. Earlier, actually; we knew something was wrong not long after that idiot father of hers managed to get herself blown up."

The older pilot frowned. "Are either of you in real danger? If you are, we should probably do something about it."

"No, I don't think that's an issue any longer. Kira finally came to his senses, so I don't think _that_ will be a problem any more; and if she comes after me..." The faintest trace of a very cold smile appeared on the youth's face. "I would like to see her try something in the face of a blade crafted by Tom Delaney."

* * *

_Hades,_ Bridge, April 16th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Well, a right fine mess _that_ was," Tom Delaney remarked, going over the records of the recent battle yet again. "Looks like _Archangel_ and company cleaned the Zala team's clocks; of course, it also seems to have stressed Raptor again." He looked up, face grim. "I give it one more sortie, Leanne, before the whole thing comes apart at the seams. Probably _during_ the next sortie."

"Then it's a good thing Preybird is nearly ready," Leanne Eldridge replied, face drawn; the previous day's events had left her very, very tired, and not from physical exertion. Still, she was doing much better than she had been during those first, tense minutes after Blitz's destruction. "Startup testing can begin tomorrow, right?"

Tom shook his head. "I don't think we've got time for startup tests, Leanne. Zala and his cohorts have the wrong idea about what happened yesterday; I think they'll be out for blood. I give it no later than tomorrow before they make another attack on the _Archangel._ Preybird _has_ to be ready to intervene."

"That's _your_ department," she pointed out. "All I do is fly it; _you're_ the one who has to make sure it's possible to take it up in the first place."

"I know, I know..." He ran a hand through his iron-gray hair. "The NJC is complete, and we've got the fission pile together; it's got main power now. The Nataraja's installation was completed this morning, along with the satellite power-receptor surfaces on the wings and wing-DRAGOONs, so we can use it now. Wouldn't recommend using it, though, unless you want to blow up _everything_ in the area... including the Buster, which really wouldn't make the Boss happy."

Leanne nodded. "And the Gerbera Straight?"

"Put the finishing touches on it this morning; if you absolutely positively have to cut something in half or deflect a beam -without the Boss's reflexes, anyway- that's what you want to use." He glanced at a display. "We're installing the beam boomerangs this afternoon, along with the Mirage Colloid... and that'll be that, except for initializing the fission plant."

"That's great." She looked over at another display, showing a feed from _Hades'_ Infirmary. "At least we did something right," she murmured to herself.

Tom followed her gaze, then chuckled, glancing down into the hangar... where, next to the nearly-complete Preybird, lay the battered torso of another mobile suit. "So, how _is_ he, Leanne?"

"Better than I'd feared, especially considering what he just lived through." Leanne smiled. "He's not conscious yet, but the docs tell me he'll be fine."

He nodded. "And then we tell him about the Shiva Option... and GENESIS."

And with _that_ young pilot on their side, they had a chance of gaining more support from the Supreme Council itself.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

_Another day, another round of trying to make bricks without straw,_ Ken thought to himself. He was buried in the guts of the Raptor, attempting to make repairs. He hadn't taken any hits in the last battle, but his maneuvers had once again over-stressed the frame. _Keep this up, and you'll be down another mobile suit. Oh well; could be worse. At least I should be able to pick up Preybird soon..._

And if Raptor failed in the interim, he still had his old CGUE. It wasn't equipped with Phase-shift, and it couldn't fly in atmosphere, but it still had its heavy particle cannon, and Murdoch had finally gotten the purloined antiship laser sword adapted to it.

Thinking of mobile suits reminded him of his team, and Ken wondered idly how Leanne was doing. _The Blitz was destroyed out there, after all; I can't imagine she's feeling very good about it. She and Nicol were always close... at least until the Plan began._ He winced. _This could be bad for the Plan, too; Representative Amalfi will be out for blood. He's not normally the vengeful sort... but losing his only son might just push him into Patrick's camp. And now that Patrick's Supreme Council Chairman..._

The ace shuddered, almost imperceptibly. The results of the recent election in the PLANTs hadn't surprised him, unfortunately; but they _had_ frightened him. Now Zala could allocate even more resources to his twisted version of the Shiva Option.

_Which is, of course, why we need Preybird... and _Asmodeus. That brought a slight, sad smile to Ken's face. _Ah, Asmodeus... I wish she were still with us today. But an _Archangel_-class mobile assault ship is a fitting way to honor Alicia Sharpe, I think._

He heard a sound below him, and stuck his head out of the Raptor's cockpit to see Kira Yamato entering the hangar, looking pensive. The look of fury from the previous day was gone, but he still looked... off-center. Something was clearly still bothering him.

Kira looked up when he heard Raptor's zip line. "Ken?" he said, surprised. "What are _you_ doing here?"

A reasonable question; it _was_ twenty-one hundred hours. "Working on Raptor," the ace answered. "Those stress fractures are getting worse; no surprise, I guess."

The younger pilot nodded absently, staring at nothing. "Ken..." he said at last, looking up at Strike. "Who was it... that I killed yesterday?"

Ken rubbed his eyepatch. "His name was Nicol Amalfi," he said slowly. "Son of Representative Yuri Amalfi, cousin of one of my pilots... and, from what I've heard, a good friend of your buddy Athrun." He frowned, thinking. "He was also a pianist, and a good one at that. I don't think he belonged on the battlefield, frankly... but he made his choice."

"And because he did, I killed him," Kira said bitterly. "Another guy has died because of me."

"Don't start thinking like that," the ace said sharply. "This is war, Kira; you don't blame yourself or the enemy for the lives you take. No, you blame the idiot politicians who sent them out to die in the first place; the bastards like Patrick."

Kira looked at him sharply. "But I thought you approved of this war."

"Sure I do; the Revolution was necessary. But that doesn't mean I don't blame the Earth Forces leaders for forcing our hand, or Patrick for escalating the war beyond all sanity." Ken snorted bitterly. "That man is destroying everything I worked for, fought for... and he doesn't even understand that he's doing it." He shook his head. "No, Kira. Don't blame Nicol, and don't blame yourself for killing him."

His protégé sighed. "But still... I don't think Athrun will understand that."

"I know." The ace gripped his shoulder. "I don't think Dearka will, either; he was never quite as adept as I at putting things in proper perspective. Possibly," he conceded, "because he's more human than I. I see this war as one thing; he sees it as something subtly different. And because of that... I think he's going to go all out when next we meet."

"So will Athrun." Kira swallowed. "I don't think you heard him, when I destroyed the Blitz; but I did. I've never heard anyone sound that angry..."

"I know," Ken said again. "And I think we both know what we'll have to do, when next we fight that team. We both know what will happen."

"Yeah. They'll forget about trying to persuade us... and they'll kill us." The younger pilot turned to look his mentor in the eye. "Unless we get them first?"

The ace nodded unwillingly. "I don't think we'll have much of a choice," he admitted. "It's kill or be killed, Kira; I'm beginning to understand that I can't keep fighting the way I have, if I want to survive -and I have to, no mistake; I'm the only one who can stop what Patrick's planning- and if we're to protect this ship, neither one of us has any choice in the matter."

Kira looked up at the Strike. "Athrun... do I have to... destroy him...?" His fist clenched. "So be it."

Ken nodded. "So be it."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"I can relieve you, Captain," Natarle offered.

"Thank you, Natarle," Murrue said gratefully, getting out of the captain's seat. "It's been a long couple of days for all of us."

"Yeah," the Lieutenant agreed, taking the vacated chair. "But we should be crossing the Tropic of Cancer sometime tomorrow; even I'll admit we should be able to relax then. I doubt ZAFT will attempt to chase us into Alaska's air-defense zone, and even if they do, I think our forces can deal with them."

"Mm." Murrue frowned. "We keep meeting that team..." she murmured. "They certainly are persistent, aren't they."

"Agreed." Natarle tilted her head. "But... I believe Commander La Flaga said something about this _not_ being the Le Creuset team."

The Captain blinked. "How can that be?"

Natarle shrugged. "I don't know if it's true... I just overheard him muttering something about it. Commander DiFalco seems to agree, though."

"I assume you mean Falcon," Murrue stated, "not Sophia." She thought about it. "Well, he _does_ have a better insight into Le Creuset than we do; and he always seems to know when he's around. I don't know how or why, but I'm inclined to take his word for it."

"We seem to do that a lot," the Lieutenant remarked.

Her superior shrugged. "Maybe because he's usually right?" _Now, the only thing needed to make my satisfaction with his presence complete would be for him to show a little emotion now and then..._

Yeah. Right. That'd happen about the time Sol went nova.

* * *

_Cousteau,_ Crew Quarters

* * *

Dearka lay on his bunk, glowering at the ceiling; he fully as furious -and stunned- as he'd been the day before. Nicol's death had hit them all hard, and now even Yzak was regretting calling the young pilot a coward so much. _No, he wasn't a coward... he proved _that _by saving Athrun yesterday. If only he hadn't gotten killed doing it... those Earth Forces bastards!_

He wasn't sure whom he was angrier at: the Strike pilot... or his own best friend, Ken DiFalco. The Strike had done the deed, but there was no doubt in Dearka's mind that Falcon had been the one to train the pilot. That was how he operated... and he couldn't think of any other way the Strike pilot could've gotten that good, that fast; only the Grimaldi Falcon's training regimen could have done it.

"You've gone too far, Falcon," he whispered angrily. "Bad enough when you killed Olor and Matthew, and those guys in the desert and the ocean; _that_ I could understand. But I expected better of you than _this._ I thought you'd make sure any student of yours knew better than to kill Nicol like that..."

Dearka had been stunned when he first learned of Falcon's defection to the Earth Forces; but even then he'd thought he understood him, at least a little. He _was_ fighting for what he believed in, however little sense that seemed to make, and he was obviously going out of his way not to kill his comrades. He could understand about Olor, Matthew, and the BuCUE and GOOhN pilots; under the circumstances, Falcon had had little choice. Heliopolis was a dire situation indeed, and his battles in the desert and the Indian Ocean had placed him in environments he'd never fought in before, pitted against pilots who knew exactly what they were doing. However much Dearka detested the loss of those pilots, he could understand it.

But Nicol... he'd just been a kid, giving his life to save his friend's. He'd attacked with a weapon the Strike pilot _had_ to know couldn't hurt his Phase-shift... and he'd killed him anyway. Struck him down in cold blood, thrusting a saber right into Blitz's torso...

No; if Falcon trained someone to do _that,_ he wasn't the pilot -and friend- Dearka had once known. He _had_ changed, become less a man than an elemental force of nature. His mission had utterly consumed him, making him a menace to everything he once held dear; he'd lost sight of his humanity when he committed himself to this course... so there was no longer an option. The orders from Command regarding the Grimaldi Falcon were clear, and now so was Dearka's mind.

"When next we meet, Falcon... I won't hesitate to blow you away. For Nicol."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, April 17th, C.E. 71

* * *

_Archangel_ was now in the midst of the Marshall Islands, and the home stretch. If all went as planned, they'd be across the Tropic of Cancer -and into the JOSH-A Base's air-defense perimeter- within hours.

All did not go as planned.

Tonomura was almost dozing at his station, not expecting any further trouble, when his detection systems beeped at him. Jerking upright, he bent over his console, examining the readings. "Enemy activity!" he called out. "Detecting one _Vosgulov_-class submarine carrier, and three mobile suits!"

Natarle jerked upright in her chair. "All hands to Level One Battlestations!" she ordered, hitting the intercom switch on her armrest. "Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations! Captain Ramius to the Bridge! Mr. Tonomura, identify those mobile suits!" She had a pretty good idea, of course -after the events of two days prior- but she wanted confirmation before they started shooting at anything.

"Checking... they're X numbers, Ma'am," he said grimly, unsurprised. "Aegis... Buster... Duel. All three surviving ZAFT G-machines."

She closed her eyes. _So close... and here they are again._ _Well, we won last time, and now they're down to just three units..._ But somehow, she knew it wouldn't be that easy. Anger could betray their skill; but vengeance could also lend dangerous cunning to these foes.

Murrue came onto the Bridge at a dead run. "What's going on?" she demanded, sliding into the chair her XO hastily vacated.

"One _Vosgulov_ submarine, and the three enemy G-weapons," Natarle reported, moving to CIC. "Approaching fast Probably retaliation for our last engagement."

The Captain nodded grimly. "Vengeance, yes; and they may have the upper hand today." She scowled at the display. "I cannot in good conscience send Falcon out there today."

Natarle looked up at her, startled. "Captain? But why? We need all our machines out there-"

"And Raptor, I'm informed, is about ready to tear itself to pieces!" Murrue retorted. "We can't-"

Her right-hand intercom screen lit up. _"With all due respect, Murrue,"_ Ken said calmly, _"we don't have a choice."_

She looked down at him. "But, Falcon..."

_"This is the last stand, Murrue,"_ he told her firmly. _"Those three pilots will do whatever it takes to shoot us all down; they'll take risks they never would normally. That makes them very dangerous... and makes it imperative I launch. Even if Raptor falls apart beneath me, it'll have been worth it if _Archangel _survives."_

"But..."

Ken smiled faintly. _"Don't worry; I don't intend to die here today. Mobile suits _do _have ejection systems, remember?"_ His image winked out.

Natarle looked up. "Captain...?"

Murrue sighed. "Very well; it's his decision." _Be careful out there, Falcon...

* * *

_

_Archangel,_ Corridor

* * *

Kira was running to the locker room, to change into his flightsuit, when he heard a voice call out from behind him. "Kira!"

He turned, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of a certain redhead. "What is it, Flay?" he asked, controlling his voice as best he could.

Flay looked away, apparently unaware of the pilot's inner conflict. "Kira, I..."

Memories of their last, stormy encounter went through Kira's mind. He remembered her biting, sarcastic words, her fury when she mistook his friendliness -and desire to avoid seeing his parents- for pity... his own decision to break off their relationship... and his realization, far too late, that Ken had been right to warn him about the girl.

He felt sick inside, a mixture of conflicting emotions, as he thought about how she'd manipulated him from the very start, preying on his feelings, using him simply as a tool to avenge her father. _She didn't even care what she was doing to me... all that mattered was getting revenge for her father's death... and making _me _pay for failing to save him. She_ used _me... and now she actually dares...?_

"No, Flay," Kira said at last, avoiding her gaze.

Flay jerked in shock. "What...?"

He looked up, anger in his eyes. "You used me, Flay," he said coldly, feeling as dead inside as Ken had long been. "All this time, you didn't care about _me;_ just how I could be used as a tool. You think I don't understand -now- what you were doing?"

She was rigid with astonishment. _How... how could he know...? DiFalco... was it him...?_ "Kira, I don't know what you're-"

"Yes, you do," Kira interrupted, fists clenched. "You know exactly what I'm talking about... and that's all I have to say." He turned away. "It's over, Flay. I won't be your weapon anymore."

He ran off, leaving Flay to stare after him in shock, horror... and an indefinable sense of loss.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Catapults

* * *

As usual, the four machines were split according to type; mobile suits to starboard, Skygraspers to port, and this time, Sophia was back in action, and glad of it.

"Strike here," Kira called. "Prepared for launch."

_"Roger that, Strike," _Mir responded. _"Once you're airborne, head for the aft deck and provide support from there."_

"Roger."

_"Need anything special today, Commander?"_ Murdoch called. _"This is gonna be a hairy one..."_

"I know," Ken replied. "But no, nothing special. It'd just use extra power... and there's no point wasting equipment when this thing's likely to just come apart on me anyway."

_"Got it; be careful out there, Commander."_

"You don't need to remind me; I haven't lived this long by being careless." _Especially when I know my very competent best friend is quite likely going to try his best to blow me into very tiny pieces today. Add that to the shape my machine's in..._

Ahead of him, Kira shot out into the sky, and Raptor moved into position. _"Connected to catapult,"_ Mir reported. _"APU online. You're go for launch, Falcon."_

"Affirmative." His hands tightened on the controls. "Grimaldi Falcon; Raptor Gundam launching."

Following after its more brightly-colored twin, Raptor blazed into the evening sky, ready for one last dogfight... with a pilot considerably less sanguine about the whole idea.

* * *

Marshall Islands

* * *

Dearka's mouth tightened, watching the four machines launch from the _Archangel._ "There you are, Falcon," he muttered, watching Raptor lance into the sky. "It's time, 'amigo'; I can't let you live any longer. Not after what you've done."

Athrun was having similar thoughts, catching sight of the Strike. _I see you, Kira. You're going to pay for murdering Nicol... with your life._ His fury had burned away any lingering trace of their old friendship; now _all_ that remained was rage.

Raptor streaked through the air, beam saber in hand, seeking out the Buster. "Come on, Dearka," Ken murmured, gazing into his displays. "Let's finish this." His eye narrowed, and his fingers tightened on the control bars. "You endanger everything, amigo..." He opened a radio channel, and uttered the high, ascending wail of the peregrine falcon.

Once, Dearka would've reacted to that call. But today, neither of them wasted on any time on words. The Buster simply opened fire, spitting emerald darts and orange tracers, and the fight was on.

With a quick tap of the vernier control, Ken threw himself sideways, dodging the gun launcher shot completely, while his crimson blade connected with the energy beam. Emerald fire met crimson, and emerald lost; it bounced back at Buster, forcing him to dodge to one side.

Meanwhile, Kira exchanged shots with both Aegis and Duel simultaneously. Green bolts splattered uselessly on his shield, foiled by the anti-beam coating, and he returned fire at Athrun's machine.

The emerald dart passed within a millimeter of Aegis' shoulder, close enough to scorch, but Athrun didn't even flinch. He fired off another bolt, and had the satisfaction of watching it graze the Strike, burning a tiny furrow across its head. _You're getting better, Kira... but today it won't be enough. It won't!_

"Die, Strike!" Yzak shouted, and fired off his railgun; the electromagnetically-propelled projectile caught Kira solidly in the chest, but the Strike's Phase-shift rendered it ineffective. With a snarl of anger, Duel's pilot triggered his rifle.

Kira raised his shield again, contemptuous of the beam, and completely ignored the spattering energy. His return fire briefly connected the two machines with a stream of green energy, and the bolt ripped a tear through Duel's left arm. _I won't let you shoot down the _Archangel...

Ken batted aside another blast, and returned fire with his own beam rifle. The bolt caught Buster in the right shoulder, tearing through the missile pod located there. _Not good enough, Dearka; not nearly good enough._

Dearka was barely even fazed by the blow. His missiles would've been useless against Raptor anyway, unless he was lucky enough to knock down its Phase-shift somehow; something he didn't think was going to happen. No, this battle would be decided by energy weapons alone... and so he took aim at Raptor's cockpit with his rifle.

The ace cursed to himself, raising his small shield barely in time to avoid having his cockpit skewered; but he wasn't quite quick enough. Rather than taking the blow on the Panzer Eisen's anti-beam-coated base, it struck the rocket anchor directly, slagging it and damaging the arm beneath.

_Bad,_ he thought. _Dearka's better than I thought; should've realized he was holding back before._ He fired off another beam, ripping into Buster's Guul, but not fatally.

Within Raptor, fissures began to widen...

* * *

_Hades,_ Hangar

* * *

_"Leanne!"_ Tom called over the intercom. _"There's trouble on the surface; the Zala team is at it again. We need to get Preybird out there, now!"_

"I'm beginning activation of the fission plant," Leanne replied from Preybird's cockpit. "Give me a few minutes, okay? Reactors don't activate instantly, you know; not the first time."

_"The one disadvantage to fission power,"_ he muttered. _"Well, it's not like we had a choice... Anyway, Leanne, expedite. I don't think the Boss' machine is going to survive this battle as it is; without our intervention, _Archangel _might not, either."_

"I'm working on it," she promised. "Just give me a little more time..."

* * *

Marshall Islands

* * *

"Your precious student murdered Nicol, Falcon!" Dearka shouted, speaking for the first time. "Do you still think yourself justified?" He fired off a salvo from his remaining missile pod. "Do you still think you're acting the best interests of the PLANTs? Answer me, Falcon!"

"People die in war, Dearka," Ken snapped back, ripping into the missiles with his CIWS. "I'm sorry about Nicol, but vengeance has no place on the battlefield!"

"You're one to talk," the other muttered, and spat another emerald dart from his rifle; a chunk went flying from Raptor's right shoulder.

"I'm not going down today, Dearka. I won't allow it." Raptor's rifle erupted at the same moment as Buster's and the two beams met in flare of even brighter green, before fading out. "There's still too much left for me to do."

"You've done more than enough, Falcon," Dearka hissed. "Now get out of my way!"

"You want the Strike, you'll have to get through _me_ first."

"That's _exactly_ what I had in mind." Buster swooped in on its Guul, physically ramming the gray machine, and sending it out of control. "The Strike's crimes are yours, too!"

"I have enough crimes without taking credit for anyone else's," Ken muttered, trying to bring his machine back under control, before it could hit the water.

High above, Sophia DiFalco, alias the Victorian Kestrel, circled in her Skygrasper, feeling helpless. Her brother was down there, fighting for his life... and she could do nothing. She was a hot hand in a fighter, but she knew as well as anyone that her fragile craft had no place in a duel between machines like that. Dearka Elsman would swat her from the sky with absurd ease, if he managed to get a shot; and she wasn't so arrogant as to think she could dodge beams the way her brother could.

_Which makes me... useless..._ she thought bitterly. _One of these days, I've _got _to get myself a mobile suit, even if it's just one of Orb's mass-produced Astrays..._

Meanwhile, Kira was finally beginning to tire of Yzak's interference. Unlike Athrun, his rage wasn't lending anything to his skill; it was just betraying his aim. That meant he was more a nuisance than a threat... but still a distraction, when a distraction could easily cost him his life... and take down the _Archangel_ while he was busy.

Setting aside its rifle, Strike leapt into the air, powerful verniers propelling it at the ZAFT machine. _I won't let you stop us,_ Kira thought. _I can't afford to lose!_

Yzak grinned savagely. "Big mistake, Strike. Now I've got you right where I want you." He angled his Guul in, rushing to meet the Strike, and his rifle spat darts of coherent light at the machine. "Let's finish this, once and for all!"

Strike twisted around, dodging beneath the first, to the right of the second, and allowing the third to pass between its legs, but the fourth caught it in the right hand. It left it mostly intact... but the plugs that would've powered his rifle were gone, leaving him only with melee weapons.

Still, Kira was not deterred. Getting in close, his fiery blade reached out, burning through Duel's rifle, before ripping up and through the railgun, leaving only a sparking stump. As pieces of weaponry fell from the sky, he flipped Strike on its side, and planted a vicious kick on Duel's left shoulder.

Ordinarily, it would have done nothing; but with its Assault Shroud equipped, Duel kept a set of missile launchers there, and they were _not_ covered by PSA. The hard blow shattered them, setting off the missiles inside, with disastrous results.

Yzak screamed his rage, feeling the shockwave from the exploding assault shroud. Knowing that the alternative was to become even more of a sitting duck than he already was, he ejected the extra equipment; it fell away, tearing itself apart in powerful explosions. "You'll pay for that, Strike!"

_I don't think so._

The Duel was now reduced to its beam sabers, and Kira had no intention of letting him use them. His saber flicked out again, this time biting deep into the machine's right leg, and ripping out the side, leaving it with a mere stump. Not content with that, he stabbed lower, into the Guul's power systems... which promptly exploded.

Yzak screamed a curse as he fell from the sky, reduced to helplessness by this... this... _When next we meet, Strike, I'll pay you back for _all _of this!_

He plunged into the water, and the Zala team's strength was suddenly reduced to two thirds.

* * *

_Hades,_ Bridge

* * *

"The Duel's signal just vanished, sir," a crewman reported.

Tom looked at him sharply. "Destroyed, or just dropped into the water?"

The crewman shook his head. "Can't tell, sir; but CIC's best guess is disabled, not destroyed. Can't tell more without surfacing."

"Which we can't do just yet," the ZAFT redcoat mused. "Still..." He activated the intercom. "Leanne, this battle is getting vicious. Joule's out of the fight now, and the Boss is getting ripped up by the Buster. How long?"

_"I don't know,"_ Leanne replied; he could hear keys being pressed in the background. _"Minutes, maybe; I just don't know. This thing has never been flown in its complete form, Tom, so I really can't tell you how long this is going to take."_

Tom sighed. "Understood."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge/Marshall Islands

* * *

"Duel is no longer within the battle area, Ma'am," Sai reported.

Murrue nodded tightly. "Good; keep me informed."

"Target the Gottfrieds," Natarle ordered. "Lock onto the Aegis and fire!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Pal acknowledged, and rapidly keyed the orders into the computer. With a final keystroke, the massive energy weapons erupted, with just a single, small target in mind.

But this time, Athrun wasn't so keen to be a target; and fury had lent him a dangerous cunning. He leapt off his Guul, into open air, and allowed the massive emerald beams to pass between him and his flight unit, before boosting toward the _Archangel._ His thrusters weren't powerful enough for true flight, but they could slow his descent tremendously; he used that advantage now.

"The Aegis is above us, Ma'am!" Sai called. "He's switching to mobile armor-"

Athrun bared his teeth in a snarl, and pulled the trigger.

A massive, concentrated stream of phased energy powered out of the muzzle of the multiphase energy cannon known as Scylla, and every erg of power from it was directed against _Archangel_'s port Valiant.

The energy was too much for the linear cannon; it ripped through the mount, shearing computer links, power systems, and physical linkages to the ship like a hot knife through butter. With a mighty explosion, it tore itself apart, throwing debris everywhere.

"We've lost Valiant Two!" Sai reported, as Aegis landed back on its Guul. "Debris has damaged primary levitators!"

Murrue gritted her teeth. "Can we still fly?"

Neumann struggled with his controls. "For now," he grunted. "But I can't guarantee we'll be able to stay airborne much longer..."

Beside him, Tolle jumped to his feet. "I'm going out there!" he announced, heading for the elevator.

Murrue whipped her head around. "You're _what?_ Crewman Koenig, both Skygraspers are already deployed; there's nothing-"

"There's still Falcon's CGUE," he shot back, and before anyone could try and stop him, the elevator hatch closed, and he descended.

Mir paled. "Tolle, no... you don't know how..."

Sai reached over and gripped her arm. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Mir..." Yet he, too, could not dispel the fear he felt in his gut.

* * *

"You're tougher than I thought," Ken grunted, as a beam tore through his machine's left elbow, ripping off the forearm. "But I'm won't let myself be shot down today, Dearka."

Buster fired again, this time with its gun launcher; the projectile smashed the already-ruined arm, ripping through the inside -which, of course, was _not_ protected by Phase-shift- and taking it off at the shoulder. "Your luck's run out, Falcon," Dearka hissed. "It's over!" He lined up for another shot; and without his shield, Ken's only recourse would be to attempt a saber deflection, a tricky maneuver at the best of times...

"I don't think so!" Mu La Flaga called, and fired his Skygrasper's hyper-impulse cannon at Buster's Guul. The powerful beam ripped straight through, from front to back, destroying it utterly.

Dearka cursed in surprise and frustration. "No!"

"You lose, Dearka," Ken murmured. "I'm sorry." He deployed his Death Blossoms, aiming for the final blow... and suddenly his machine's left leg tore away, dropping toward the ground far below. "What the-!"

His shots went wide -merely pulverizing Buster's guns and right arm- and Dearka watched in surprise as Raptor began to come apart at the seems. _What's going on with _that?

Now his remaining arm fell away, and Ken realized he was in trouble. "Stress fractures," he muttered. "Too late... Well, ZAFT isn't getting this machine, intact or otherwise." He pulled forward on his right control bar, exposing the keypad for the self-destruct system, and hurriedly typed two-one-four-seven-zero. A countdown appeared on the display, he snatched his sword and the photograph, and leapt out into the air, trusting his flightsuit's jetpack to at least soften his landing.

* * *

Murrue felt her blood run cold as GAT-X107 Raptor erupted in an eye-searing flash of light, tearing itself apart even more thoroughly than the fissures in its frame. "Crewman Haw, is he-"

Mir typed frantically at her console. "I can't tell, Captain, the explosion- wait a second." She heaved a sigh of relief. "Receiving a signal from his emergency transponder, Ma'am; he's alive, and appears to be heading for the Buster's crash site."

Murrue closed her eyes. "Leave it to him, then; Buster's in no condition to move, and I don't think Falcon would appreciate it if we did anything precipitous."

Any relief she might have felt vanished an instant later, however, when the _Archangel_ suddenly lurched, and began to fall out of the sky. "Primary levitator failure!" Neumann called out. "No time to initialize backup levitator; prepare for crash landing!"

She hit her intercom. "All hands, brace for impact!"

_Archangel_ dropped liked the proverbial rock. She had wings, but they were intended more to _improve_ flight performance; they weren't enough to keep her flying on their own. Sheer momentum kept her going long enough to hit hard on land, instead of sinking like a stone into the deep ocean.

And now she was helpless.

* * *

_Hades,_ Hangar

* * *

_"Raptor's signal just disappeared from our screens,"_ Tom barked from the Bridge. _"Leanne, there's no time! Launch _now!"

"Roger that," Leanne replied. "All systems go for launch. I hope," she added under her breath; this would be Preybird's first flight since being equipped with a Neutron-jammer Canceler. If anything went wrong...

_"Bring us up to launch depth,"_ she heard Tom order. _"Open topside hatches and activate the linear catapults. Preybird, launch at will."_

Above the lethal machine hatches split open, revealing the evening sky, and Leanne took a deep breath. "Leanne Eldridge," she said into the radio. "Preybird, launching."

ZGMF-X00A Preybird blazed into the sky under its own power... and it was looking for blood.

* * *

Marshall Islands

* * *

Dearka cursed, trying to get his machine to move. "Engine performance down, hydros knocked out... No!" he slammed his fist into the display, frustrated and angry.

And then something triggered his exterior hatch controls, opening it from the outside; he had a feeling whoever it was wasn't friendly... and he was right.

"Hello, Dearka," Ken said coldly. Katana in hand, he stepped just inside the cockpit. "You seem to be in dire straights."

Dearka swallowed. "So that's it, then?" he said quietly. "It ends here?"

"You endanger everything," the ace said once again. "I can no longer tolerate your interference, Dearka; you have no idea how high the stakes are." He pointed the blade right at his friend's heart. "You have one last chance: surrender... or die."

This choice wasn't really a choice at all, but he stalled for time nonetheless. "You've lost your machine," Dearka said, as levelly as he could. "Now what do you intend to do?"

Ken smiled slowly, and that scared him. "Lost my machine, have I? Which one?" And behind him, a machine of crimson and gray flowed into existence, beam rifles in hand, pointed directly at Buster's cockpit. "As I was saying..."

Dearka swallowed. "I see." He recognized the machine, all right; there was no mistaking the colors of the unit that had decimated them just outside Orb, a month ago. "So you _were_ behind it all."

"Yes." Ken turned to face the machine, and spoke into his helmet mic. "Good timing, Leanne."

_"No problem, Boss,"_ Leanne replied cheerfully. _"I'm just glad to see you in one piece."_

"It'll take more than the destruction of my machine to stop me." He paused. "And, Leanne... I'm sorry about Nicol."

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. _"Nothing to be sorry about, Boss; he's in _Hades' _Infirmary right now. The docs say he'll be just fine."_

Dearka sagged. "Nicol's... alive?" He slowly raised his hands. "Okay, Falcon... I surrender."

Ken smiled. "Good." he switched radio frequencies. "_Archangel,_ this is Falcon. Suggest you send someone to retrieve Buster and its pilot; he's surrendered."

Natarle's startled voice came back. _"Roger that, Commander; we're sending what mechanics we can spare."_ She hesitated. _"And, that machine...?"_

"Don't worry about it; I'll be bringing it aboard personally soon enough." He switched back to his link with Preybird. "Leanne, if you'll open the cockpit...?"

The hatch -so similar to the Strike's- split open, followed closely by the pilot's module inside. Leanne dropped down to the ground, and made her way over. "All yours, Boss," she told her commander. "Keys are in the ignition, as you can see."

"Right." Ken looked back at Dearka. "I'll be seeing you soon, amigo," he said. "Now, what about you, Leanne?"

She shook her head. "Don't worry about me, Commander; _Hades_ will pick me up soon enough. Just make sure you kick some tail out there. We worked hard getting that machine ready for you."

"Roger that." He jumped into the cockpit, while Leanne Eldridge ran off... and Dearka was left alone, waiting to be taken into custody.

* * *

One battle may have been over, but another wasn't. All the time _Archangel_ had been falling out of the sky and Ken and Dearka had been finishing their duel, Kira and Athrun had still been fighting. By now, Aegis' Guul was gone, and they'd both hit the dirt on an island not far from _Archangel_'s crash site.

And neither one of them had heard Leanne Eldridge's transmission.

_"For Nicol!"_ Athrun yelled, coming out of the air at the Strike, beam saber flashing out.

Kira grunted, and threw himself backwards. His own saber was out -he'd left his rifle behind on the _Archangel_'s deck; without the ability to power it, it was useless- and he parried Aegis' next savage blow. _I guess this is it, Athrun,_ he thought, and essayed a diagonal, right-to-left slash. _It all ends here..._

His blow ripped a gash in the red machine's skirt armor, and Athrun retaliated with a vicious backhand, which cut a wedge out of Strike's left shoulder. _"Kira!"_

"I won't let you take me down, Athrun!" Kira used Strike's mobility advantage to try to leap over Aegis; but all it got him an upward slice that tore off his right Armor Schneider sheath. _No... I won't let him do this..._

_"Kira!"_

He looked up, stunned, when he heard that voice. "No, Tolle!" he shouted frantically, seeing the slate-gray CGUE land awkwardly on the ground. "Stay away!"

Tolle awkwardly manipulated the machine's controls, drawing the huge laser sword. "I'm not letting him take you out, Kira!" he called, and charged the Aegis.

To Athrun, the CGUE was no more than a noisy fly; even with the energy blade, it was clearly far too clumsy to hurt him. He jumped to the right, dodging the inexpert blow, and lashed out with his own golden blade, ripping into the CGUE's torso.

Tolle didn't even have time to scream as that blade of golden energy tore through his cockpit...and his body. In less than a second, his machine had been bisected, and it blew itself apart a moment later.

On _Archangel_'s Bridge, Mir stared in horrified disbelief as the words "Signal Lost" appeared on her display.

_"Tooollleee!"_

Behind Kira's eyes, an amethyst seed burst... and when those eyes opened, they were tear-filled, with the wide, clear look of the Berserker.

_"Die!"_ he screamed, a Berserker in truth this day. He clashed blades with the Aegis, before forcing the red machine's blade arm up and out of his way; this cleared the path for his saber to arc up, ripping into and through the joint of Aegis' left shoulder, causing it to fall away.

Athrun blinked, startled, when those blows landed, and were followed up by a vicious kick to Aegis' head. _Kira... he's... what's happening?_

He didn't know; but his mind and body knew how to react when the Strike soared at him again, crimson energy blade raised to bisect Aegis, much as Aegis had just killed Kira's friend. "I'm gonna..."

Behind Athrun Zala's eyes, an emerald seed shattered to pieces.

_"Kill you!"_

Aegis leapt backward, out of the way, and rebounded into the air. All three remaining sabers activated, and they clashed with Strike. A vicious cut rent Strike's left arm asunder, leaving it with no shield; a retaliatory stab plunged into Aegis' right eye, shattering optics, melting circuits, and tearing the entire head off.

Athrun took advantage of the momentary opening, left leg saber tearing a gash in Strike's hatch, opening the cockpit to air... and the perfect way to end the battle came into Athrun's hyper-sensitive mind.

Before Kira realized what was happening, Aegis converted to mobile armor mode, and its three remaining limbs closed around the Strike like some kind of giant crustacean. At the same moment, the Scylla multiphase energy cannon began to glow, and he understood that he was about to die.

Athrun's teeth were bared in a smile of savage satisfaction... but the smile vanished when the Scylla died without firing a shot. His eyes snapped down to his displays, and his fists clenched in the realization that he was completely out of power.

But he still had one more trump card.

Just as Ken DiFalco had done minutes earlier, in Raptor's cockpit, Athrun pulled out the crucial keypad, and typed two-eight-eight-seven. A ten-second count appeared, and he abandoned the Aegis to its fate.

Kira stared at the rising form of the Aegis' pilot, and understood too late what was happening. _I'm sorry, Cagalli-_ he thought; the pendant he wore started to glow... and Aegis erupted.

A vast explosion roiled across the island...

* * *

Author's note: Aegis has self-destructed, taking the Strike with it… and possibly, Kira, as well… Meanwhile, Raptor has finally torn itself apart, but the Grimaldi Falcon clearly will not be out of action long…

Yeah, I know; really fast update. Frankly, I wasn't expecting to update this soon, either; it just kind of happened that way. _Next_ chapter will probably take the usual five-six days to appear.

In the meantime, let me know how you like this one. -Solid Shark


	24. Chapter 24: The Wounded Sky

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, April 17th, C.E. 71

* * *

The _Archangel_'s Bridge crew stared in shock at what had just happened. One gigantic explosion, at the Strike's location... and then nothing. Not even an emergency beacon... 

In the midst of all this, both Skygraspers had landed -both having sustained damage from debris during the battle- and now Murrue's intercom squawked at her. _"Hey!"_ Mu demanded from the hangar. _"What in the world just happened?"_

_"What was that explosion just now?"_ Sophia concurred. _"What's going on out there, Murrue?"_

Murrue winced. "I'm not sure," she said finally. "But you should know... we've lost contact with both the Strike and the CGUE." Her throat tightened. "Tolle was the one flying the CGUE."

Mu's eyes went wide. _"Both of them? No..."_

Down in CIC, Mir snapped out of her trance-like daze, and hit the transmit key on her console. "Kira, come in!" she called. "Kira, Tolle, please respond! Where are you?"

Natarle closed her eyes. "It's useless, Crewman Haw," she said quietly. "It won't do any good." She hit an override on her own console, closing the radio circuit.

"What's the Strike's last known location?" Murrue asked, suddenly very tired.

"An island slightly to the south of our current position," Sai replied. "That was... the epicenter of that explosion..."

She closed her eyes in pain. "Prepare to-"

"Wait!" he interrupted, eyes glued to his displays. "Captain, we have three DINNs incoming!"

Murrue looked up. "How long till they reach us?" she demanded.

"Only a few minutes, at this rate."

She nodded. "Then prepare to intercept."

"Not possible," Natarle interjected. "In _Archangel_'s current condition, we have no chance of intercepting three DINNs; and none of our machines are operational."

"But... we can't just abandon them!" Sai protested. "What if they _did_ manage to escape somehow?"

"How long would it take us to reach the Strike's location?" Murrue queried swiftly. "Could we get there before those DINNs-"

"Captain, it's too risky!" Natarle protested. "We have this entire ship to worry about, and the lives of everyone aboard!"

The Captain's eyes flashed. "I will not abandon-!"

_"We don't have a choice,"_ Ken suddenly cut in over the radio. _"We have to get out of here, right now."_

Murrue looked down at her intercom screen. "Falcon? Where are you-?"

Preybird rose into view just outside the viewports. _"There's no time, Murrue!"_ the ace snapped impatiently. _"And let me tell you this: Kira wouldn't _want _us to stick around looking for him. His top priority was always the protection of this ship; you _know _that!"_

"Captain!" Natarle said urgently.

Murrue closed her eyes again, unable to face the reality of what she was about to order. "Very well," she whispered. "Get us out of here. But send a distress signal to Orb, along with the coordinates of that island; let them do what they can."

"Orb?" Natarle frowned. "But... that nation is-"

"I will take full responsibility!" the Captain snapped. "Now carry out my orders."

"DINNs closing fast, Ma'am!" Sai called. "Less than thirty seconds-"

"Activate backup levitators, and boost engines to maximum thrust!" She looked grimly out the viewports. "Our number one priority is to evacuate the area!"

"And the DINNs, Ma'am?" Natarle persisted.

A very cold voice answered her from the radio. _"Don't worry about the DINNs, Lieutenant," _the Grimaldi Falcon said tightly. _"They're mine."_

Preybird suddenly flashed into motion, darting behind _Archangel,_ and Murrue's eyes were drawn to the rear displays. She'd only ever heard him sound that enraged when he learned of Victor Tempest's survival... and that day, he'd been flying a machine clearly inferior to what he piloted now.

The DINN pilots clearly didn't realize the threat they faced. Even as Preybird drew the massive Gerbera Straight katana from its side, the ZAFT machines tried to fire their projectile weapons at their enemy, little realizing how futile it was.

Murrue could easily imagine Ken's thoughts as he rushed them: _Pathetic._ Wings spread wide, he flew straight at them, and his huge blade cut through the first like it didn't exist, ripping in one side and out the other... going through the pilot in between.

The pilot's fellows didn't stand much more of a chance. The Gerbera Straight went back into its sheath, and the beam rifles snapped up. A pair of emerald darts spat out, one shearing through the next machine's head, the other burning a molten hole through the cockpit. Even as it tore itself to pieces, another pair of bolts streaked out, impacting on the third machine and blasting it apart with extreme prejudice, spewing fragments of armor everywhere.

_"Now we can go,"_ Ken said grimly, and maneuvered swiftly back to the _Archangel_'s flight decks.

"But," Sai protested, "now that the enemy is down, we can stay and look for-"

_"Negative,"_ the ace cut him off. _"I don't know if those DINNs were the only ZAFT forces in the area; and I'm not confident enough in ability to fight with this thing to risk running into heavier forces."_ He closed his eye. _"I'm sorry... but we have no choice."_

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

ZGMF-X00A Preybird seemed almost to sigh as it powered down; its pilot felt much the same, opening the machine's pilot module, then the main cockpit hatch, and climbed down to the deck below. 

Now that the battle was over, and _Archangel_ was on her way out of the area, Ken allowed himself the luxury of a reaction to the last hour's events. He'd just watched Tolle Koenig get himself killed, pulling a stupid stunt, and then his protégé got himself incinerated by the Aegis. _Idiot of a college student,_ he thought to himself, more in sorrow than anger. _Taking off in a CGUE when he had no experience -not even in the simulators- in a mobile suit... That idiot!_

He found Mu and Sophia at the Skygraspers, both looking as weary as he felt. "Well," the Hawk remarked, breaking the melancholy silence, "I guess it's over."

Ken nodded wearily. "Yeah."

Sophia swallowed hard. "Both of them..." she whispered. "Both of them gone, just like that..." She looked at her brother through blurred eyes. "Why, Falcon? Why is it always the kids who buy it out there?"

The ace sighed. "I don't know, Sis," he said softly. "But today... it was vengeance driving that team." His fist clenched in a rare show of emotion. "Vengeance for _nothing."_

Mu looked at him sharply. "What?"

"The Blitz's pilot is alive," Ken said flatly. "I got word from my people that he's on the _Hades_ -a submarine carrier operated by the Gray Demons- and is expected to recover fully." He closed his eye. "And this, Mu, is why vengeance does not belong on the battlefield: sometimes it's just too hard to tell if there's anything to take revenge _for._ Athrun Zala took it into his head that Kira had murdered his friend... so he took Kira's life, in exchange."

His brother cursed. "This is getting out of hand," he hissed. "This war keeps dragging on, with no end in sight... What will it _take?"_

"I'm working on it," the ace told him, nodding at the machine he'd switched to following the destruction of Raptor. "That machine is just the beginning."

Grateful for the opportunity to think of something less depressing, Sophia looked the machine over. "That's the machine that saved us outside of Orb, isn't it?"

Ken nodded. "That's right; as some may have already suspected, I designed it, based on data from the G-weapons, and it was constructed at my order by the remnants of the Gray Demons. It hasn't yet been properly tested, but as you saw outside Orb, it's a very dangerous machine." He smiled slightly, trying not to think of what had just happened. "It's the ZGMF-X00A Preybird, and that day, it was flown by Leanne Eldridge."

Mu cocked his head, a peculiar expression on his face. "Leanne Eldridge, you say?"

The ace's eye narrowed. "Yeah. Why? You know her?"

"You could say that..."

Sophia gazed intently at her little brother. "If your people have the resources to build something like this... then you really _do_ have some kind of master plan."

"Yes," Ken agreed. "It could be better -my departure from the PLANTs was more precipitous than it should have been- but it suffices for now. I only hope that it isn't too late to stop Patrick's madness..." He shook himself. "In any case, what you see here is but the first stage of my Shiva Option; I suspect Phase Two will begin sometime after we reach Alaska."

Mu's eyes narrowed. "You know something, don't you?"

"Yes; but now is not the time." The ace looked up at his armored minion. "I doubt you'd believe me at this point; and several factors have yet to come together. But when the time is right..." He turned, meeting Mu's eyes. "When the time is right, I can't guarantee we'll bring this war to the conclusion we desire; the Revolution is already won, but if I fail, Patrick may yet throw it all away. But I can and will guarantee this: whatever happens, Kira and Tolle _will_ be avenged."

* * *

Later, Mu stood alone in one corner of the hangar, by his Skygrasper, brooding. Unlike his comrade, the Victorian Kestrel -who was absolutely fascinated by the marvel of engineering her brother and his people had created- he could take no solace in mechanical things; he couldn't distract himself from the blow the ship had just suffered. 

The huge hangar seemed even emptier now, even with the Preybird newly--arrived to fill it, without the Strike, Raptor, and Ken's CGUE. It was as though the lifeblood had drained out of the place, with those three machines gone. They -particularly Strike and Raptor- had been the ship's true protectors, throughout her long journey; with them gone, and two pilots with them, it all seemed much darker...

_To have come so far,_ Mu thought bitterly, _fought so hard, gone through so much, only to have it end out here, so close to our goal... It just isn't right. And there's nothing any of us could do about!_ If there was one thing Mu La Flaga hated, it was helplessness; and that was exactly how he'd felt when Kira and Tolle died. He was the veteran; he should've been able to do _something._ But instead, like so much else in war, it had been left to the kids... to youngsters who shouldn't have been anywhere near a battlefield.

He'd been against the decision to leave the island behind, and with it any chance of finding and rescuing Kira and Tolle; but he'd heard Ken's words on the radio... _"And let me tell you this: Kira wouldn't _want _us to stick around looking for him. His top priority was always the protection of this ship; you _know _that!" _He'd also wondered why Ken had failed to intervene, either to stop Tolle from launching in the first place, or to intercept him before he reached the Aegis; but then he'd learned that the ace was busy, first being shot at by the Buster, then having his machine fall apart from underneath him.

Mu understood it... and wished he didn't.

It was then that he heard footsteps; slow, with the leaden sound of someone barely able to keep moving at all, under whatever burden they were carrying. When he looked up, he saw the hangar's hatch slide open, admitting Miriallia Haw, who looked almost dead herself.

_What's she doing here?_ Mu wondered. He knew why she wasn't on duty; even Natarle Badgiruel understood that the girl couldn't function properly right now. Besides, they didn't have anything battle-ready right now -besides Ken's new machine, which no one even understood- so her post on the Bridge was pointless.

But what was she doing in the hangar?

Confused, he watched as Mir slowly looked up, and caught sight of the Skygrasper simulator Tolle had run through so many times before his death. With a strange look in her eyes, she suddenly started running toward it; though what she hoped to find, the Hawk, didn't know.

Whatever it was, she clearly didn't find it there. After glancing into the mock cockpit, she slid slowly to her knees, eyes tightly closed.

Mir didn't even look up when Mu approached; but she heard his slow footsteps. "Where's Tolle?" she whispered. "He isn't here..."

He started to reach out to her, but stopped, as grief and frustration grew. Snarling wordlessly, Mu La Flaga instead slammed his fist into the side of the simulator. _Why is it always the kids who buy it?_ he raged at the world at large. _Why?_

Mu didn't have the answers to that. No one did...

* * *

Marshall Islands, April 18th, C.E. 71

* * *

An Orb amphibious transport aircraft settled down into the water, coming to a gentle halt on the edge of the beach. It had come there in response to _Archangel_'s distress call, and one person aboard it had no intention of leaving until she'd gotten the answers she needed. 

Cagalli Yula Athha followed her bodyguard, Ledonir Kisaka, onto the sand, and her eyes were wide with horror. "Oh... no..." All around them lay pieces of the Aegis and Raptor... and not far away lay the scorched body of X105 Strike.

"It appears as if the red machine self-destructed, and took the Strike with it..." Kisaka murmured sadly. "It's- wait." His eyes narrowed, and he reached instinctively for a weapon, for there was someone there ahead of them.

The green-haired woman raised a hand. "There's no need for that," she said, stopping a diplomatic distance away. "My name's Leanne, Leanne Eldridge; I believe my Boss is an acquaintance of yours. He told me to stick around and wait for you guys."

A small part of the weight in Cagalli's stomach eased. "You're one of the Gray Demons, right?" The woman nodded. "So... Ken's alive?"

Leanne nodded again. "Yeah; though I can't say I've ever heard anybody call him that before. Anyway, yeah, he's okay; the Raptor was destroyed on purpose, when it started to fall apart on him. He ejected just fine."

The blonde girl bit her lip. "But what about... what about the Strike? Is its pilot...?"

"I don't know; I only just got to this island myself, and haven't had time to search." The test pilot shot a grim look at the Strike. "I hope we find him," she said softly. "He's the Boss's protégé... and the Commander tells me you two are close."

Cagalli nodded tightly. "Yeah... you could say that." Without another word, she ran for the Strike, ignoring Kisaka's protests to stop. Climbing up the wreckage, she quickly found herself at the gash in the hatch, and looked in at... nothing. "Kira...?" she whispered.

Kisaka climbed up after her. "A shame," he said softly. "I'm sorry, Cagalli."

She shook her head quickly. "He's not here."

He drew back in surprise. "He's not?"

"No; he must've been thrown clear. No, maybe he ejected!" With a quick glance around her, Cagalli jumped back down to the sand, intent on finding her friend.

"Miss Cagalli!" Leanne called, standing with several Orb rescue workers. "I think you'd better take a look at this!"

The Orb princess hurried over. "Is it Kira?" she demanded breathlessly.

The test pilot stared grimly down at the red-suited pilot, lying half in the water, faceplate shattered, arm broken. "No," she said quietly. "But I know this pilot." She met the other girl's gaze. "He's Athrun Zala, and, as you may know... he was the pilot of the Aegis."

Cagalli practically vibrated from the mixed emotions running through her. "Then we take him with us," she said tightly. "Patch him up... and then get some answers."

Leanne glanced at her sidelong. "With your permission, Miss Cagalli, I'd like to accompany you."

Kisaka frowned. "You're a member of ZAFT, and Orb does not allow-"

"I'm not intending to go all the way to Orb," she said, cutting him off. "When we get close, _Hades_ will pick me up." She gave Athrun a very, very grim look. "And I'm not ZAFT, either," she added tightly. "Not the ZAFT you're thinking of. I'm a Gray Demon, one of the _true_ ZAFT... and not affiliated with either side."

Cagalli nodded decisively. "You're coming with us, then," she said firmly. "All the way to Orb, if you want; we could use your help. And before you say anything, Kisaka," she to her bodyguard, "I should mention that my father already seems to have some kind of arrangement with Ken. He'll allow it."

Kisaka nodded. "Very well."

Leanne gripped the princess' arm. "If he's out there, we'll find him," she said softly. "The Boss would insist on it... and so would I." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "I left too many friends behind at Endymion..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Mu La Flaga worked quickly but quietly, prepping the ship's sole flight-ready fighter for launch. The F-7D was lightly armed, but it should suffice for his purposes. He didn't intend to fight; all he wanted to do was search for two of his fellow pilots... for his friends. 

Archangel _can't go,_ he thought, _but surely we can spare just me, and this little fighter... especially with Falcon's new wonder suit aboard._

Mu was determined to find Kira and Tolle, if at all possible; as his little brother said, "leave no one behind". Those two -especially Kira- were the heart and soul of the ship. Without them, they still had Ken DiFalco as their brains, but the heart had been ripped out of the crew. Mir had shown him that, when she entered in search of Tolle.

He worked clandestinely now; he wasn't sure the Captain would approve of this excursion, so he chose to avoid attention for as long as possible. _Good thing Falcon showed me how to activate those backdoor programs of his..._ The young pilot's hacking tendencies would help today.

Unfortunately for the Hawk of Endymion's plans, his activity didn't go unnoticed, and it wasn't long before he heard footsteps coming up behind him. "Commander, just what do you think you're doing?"

Mu sighed. "Pretty much what it looks like, Captain," he admitted. "I'm getting this plane ready for launch, so that I can go find those kids."

Murrue firmly shook her head. "Absolutely not," she said, voice as firm as her gesture. "We can't risk it; not in this situation."

He turned to face her. "Look, Captain," he said argued, "the ship isn't in immediate danger; Falcon took care of those DINNs for us. So there's no reason for me not to go take a few hours to look for them."

She sighed. "Commander, we may not be in _immediate_ danger, but..."

"Have we heard back from Orb yet?"

Murrue blinked, slightly startled by his interruption. "No, not yet," she admitted.

"Then someone needs to go out there and see if those two made it," he said reasonably. "We can't just leave them behind, Captain; you don't _do_ that."

She swallowed. "Commander, if I thought I could spare anyone, I'd be out there looking for them myself. But we _can't;_ I'm needed here, and so are you. We're not out of this yet."

"But what if those two managed to escape?" Mu said desperately.

"Kira may have," a new, grim voice said. "But Tolle didn't."

The two officers turned in unison to see Ken striding into the hangar, in his flightsuit. "Falcon?" Murrue queried. "What are you-" She interrupted herself; there was a more important question first. "Are you sure Tolle's... gone?" she asked, unable to bring herself to say dead.

He nodded grimly. "Yeah, I'm sure. I haven't told Mir... but I saw it happen." The ace closed his eye. "It was the Aegis. Tolle decided to take my old machine out there, try and help Kira... He never realized how much Athrun outclassed him. Aegis just... just casually cut him in half." A sigh. "Unless he can somehow rebuild himself from his ashes... he's gone."

Mu sagged against the fighter's fuselage. "Why is it always the kids...?"

"Because it's the 'kids' who think they're immortal," Ken told him. "And without that, they'd never go into combat. Veterans can look death in the face and laugh at it... but it takes a kid's sense of immortality to keep him sane long enough to _become_ a veteran." He cracked the merest trace of a smile. "Lesson Forty-three."

Murrue nodded sadly. "That's true, Falcon; all too true." She looked again at his gear. "So what are _you_ doing here in flight gear, Falcon?"

"I'm going back there," he said simply.

She immediately shook her head. "No, Falcon; the same reason I can't let Commander La Flaga go applies to you, too. It's too risky."

Ken absently rubbed his chestplate. "Not for me, it isn't," he said quietly. "There's no machine in the world right now that can take Preybird down."

Murrue followed his gaze, and looked dubiously at the lethal-looking mobile suit that occupied Raptor's former spot. "You have a lot of faith in that machine," she said quietly. "Are you really that confident?"

The ace snorted. "I trust Tom Delaney's engineering, and I trust my design skills. Besides, Murrue, you saw what it did just outside Orb; you saw how effective even its incomplete form was." His voice hardened. "And just a few hours ago, you saw me destroy those DINNs without even breaking a sweat."

She closed her eyes. "There's no way I can talk you out of this, is there." It wasn't a question.

"No." Ken shifted his gaze to Mu. "You, on the other hand, need to stay here, Brother. You and Sophia can defend the ship adequately in my absence -particularly since the Duel is badly damaged, Buster is ours, and Aegis and Blitz are gone- but you _both_ need to be here."

Mu nodded reluctantly. "All right, Falcon, I will; but you do whatever you can to find Kira." He smiled slightly then. "And if you happen to run into your friend Leanne... give her my regards."

The ace's eye narrowed, but he nodded. "All right; but one of these days, you have to tell me just what this is all about." He turned back to Murrue. "With your permission, Murrue?"

She sighed. "Since I have no doubt you'll go whether I 'allow' it or not, go ahead. Just try to get back before we reach Alaska... and make sure you don't get killed while you're gone."

Ken snorted. "In Preybird? Not a chance."

* * *

Orb Transport Aircraft

* * *

Athrun Zala woke slowly, feeling that something was wrong. He couldn't pin it down, but something... just wasn't right. Then he had it. 

He was still alive.

The last moments of Aegis' existence rushed back to him, and he realized dazedly that it might be a good idea to take stock of his surroundings. So, cautiously sitting up, he looked around.

The first thing Athrun noticed was that his arm seemed to be hooked up to an intravenous tube; the second thing was that his right arm was broken. That at least told him that he hadn't escaped the last battle completely unscathed. Under the circumstances, it was hardly a surprise.

Then he realized that aboard some kind of transport aircraft... and that he was not alone.

"I see you're finally awake," Cagalli said coldly, autopistol in hand. "I was beginning to wonder."

Athrun looked at her. "You... so this is an Orb aircraft? I wouldn't have thought Orb would get involved." He smiled slightly, without humor. "Or am I in the hands of the Earth Forces?"

"Don't be an idiot, Zala, if you can possibly avoid it," another voice said from the shadows. "And I wouldn't recommend provoking her; that gun isn't for show, and she's not terribly reluctant to use it on you, either."

He turned his head to peer into the darkness, and a green-haired young woman in ZAFT red stepped forward. She, too, held a pistol... and her eyes were very cold.

Athrun recognized her, though it took a moment. Nicol had introduced her to him, back at the academy... "You're Leanne Eldridge," he murmured.

Leanne nodded. "That's right, Zala."

He looked back at Cagalli. "So what is a ZAFT officer doing here, anyway? The way I remember it, you don't want anything to do with either side."

"She's not ZAFT," she replied. "She's a Gray Demon; and I trust her a lot more than I do you, Athrun."

_Not ZAFT... a Gray Demon... DiFalco's people aren't loyal anymore,_ he realized. _They've all gone rogue... which means DiFalco _did _have a plan... and he's responsible for that machine..._

Athrun filed away the fact for later consideration, and cleared his throat. "So what, exactly, am I doing here?" he asked.

"There's something I need to know," Cagalli replied flatly. "What happened to Kira? We couldn't find him... anywhere!" Her careful detachment began to fray. "Answer me! Did you kill him?"

He looked away; her words resonating too well with his own feelings. "He's gone..." he whispered. "Because I took his life." He smiled slightly, bitterly. "That's right, I did. I grappled him with my Aegis, and tried to shoot him; and when that didn't work, I blew up, and took him with me. I don't see how he could possibly have survived."

She was suddenly right in front of him, and she shoved the ZAFT pilot hard against the bunk; it was all she could do not to shoot him. "You _bastard!_ How _could_ you!"

Leanne's reaction was more controlled, but that was almost as much a conditioned reflex as a lack of direct knowledge of Kira Yamato. "You're a lucky man, Zala," she said coldly. "If the Boss were here, I wouldn't be surprised if he chose to separate your head from your shoulders." It was all she could do to remind herself that the one truly at fault was _Patrick_ Zala... and that, from all reports, Athrun was not at all his father's son.

Athrun didn't seem to hear either of them. "But why..." he whispered. "Why am _I..._ still alive?" He looked up. "Or maybe... you two are meant to be the ones to finish it." He glanced between them. "So, which of you will be my executioner?"

In turn, Cagalli seemed oblivious to the ZAFT pilot's words. "Kira... took too many risks," she burst out, "didn't always know what he was doing, and always cried. But he was kind! _He was a nice guy!"_

He nodded sadly. "Yeah, I know," he said with a wistful smile. "Sounds like Kira hadn't changed a bit."

Leanne shot him a startled look. _What the... He knew...?_

Cagalli rounded on him. "How _could_ you?" she demanded. "He told me you were his best friend; how could you _do_ that to him? How could you kill him?"

"I didn't have a choice," Athrun whispered. "He killed Nicol, right before my eyes..."

"Vengeance?" Leanne scoffed. "Vengeance has no place on the battlefield."

They were momentarily interrupted by the intercom. _"Miss Cagalli,"_ it said, _"a mobile suit has just landed nearby; a Commander DiFalco is asking permission to come aboard."_

"Let him," Cagalli replied, forcing a modicum of calm into her voice. "He's friendly." Turning back to the ZAFT pilot, she glared, tears filling her eyes. "I don't understand you... How could you do something so terrible to your best friend...?"

"He wasn't on my side anymore!" Athrun answered forcefully. "I tried again and again to get him to join us; because he was a Coordinator, understand, that's where he belonged! But instead, he insisted on fighting his own people, even killing Nicol..."

"Idiot!" a new voice barked. "Have you learned nothing, Athrun Zala?"

His head jerked up, and his eyes widened to see the Grimaldi Falcon entering the compartment, with the look of a man who'd arrived in a great hurry. "Commander...?"

"ZAFT wasn't Kira's people," Ken told him, Prussian blue eye narrow and icy. "Coordinators aren't his people; just because he's genetically one of us doesn't mean he's _of_ us. Genetics should _not_ be the basis one uses to choose a side in this war."

"But..."

The ace continued in that same, implacable voice. "You knew Kira was a first-generation Coordinator, just like me," he said coldly. "You know as well as I do what that means. Did you really expect him to fight against his own parents?"

Athrun swallowed. "Like you told me on that island, Commander," he said softly, "not all Naturals are the enemy. He could've come over to us with his parents, abandoned the legged ship-"

"And if he'd done that, you couldn't trust him," Ken informed him harshly. "A man who betrays his friends like that is not the sort of man Kira was; if he could have done that, he'd no longer have been your friend. He could no more betray his friends than you could betray Yzak, or Dearka... or Nicol."

That last shot hit home, and the ZAFT pilot slumped. "I... I..." He began shaking, holding back his tears. "What have I done...?"

"It's a little late to be worrying about that, isn't it?" Cagalli said, voice hard, fists clenched. "Now you've _killed_ him... and nothing you do will ever bring him back!"

While the two retreated into their own little worlds, Leanne leaned over toward her boss. "Do we tell him about Nicol, Boss?" she whispered.

Ken shook his head minutely. "No; not yet." He glanced at Athrun briefly. "Two reasons. One: we can't risk breaking security at this point; it would endanger Representative Amalfi, even before we approach him with what we know. Two..." He rubbed his eyepatch. "I think it'll be good for him to have a little crisis of conscience for awhile; maybe make him reevaluate everything ZAFT is doing. It's harsh... but I think, under the circumstances, Nicol would agree."

She nodded. "Got it. By the way, how's Dearka?"

"He's in custody, on the _Archangel,"_ he replied. "I haven't seen him yet; too busy... and I'm still wondering what to say to him."

Leanne blinked; it wasn't often _anything_ caught her boss unprepared. She was accustomed to him having the answers to everything, no matter the situation. "Are you going to tell him about GENESIS?" she asked quietly.

"No," Ken said firmly. "That's still need-to-know. Nicol will have to be informed because he's likely going to be inducted directly into the Project -and because we could use his father's help- but it's too risky to try it with Dearka. He might take it into his head to try to do something from the inside... and we already know that won't work."

"Got it, Boss." She turned to look at the other two in the compartment. "What about me?"

"I want you to go with Cagalli to Orb," he told her. "Lord Uzumi already knows what we're up to, of course, so you shouldn't have any trouble. Prepare for _Archangel_'s arrival; I don't think it'll be more than a couple weeks before we can arrive."

Leanne frowned. "You expecting something to happen at Alaska, Boss?"

Ken nodded. "On my way here, I got a message from Sparky, relayed through _Hades._ Operation Spit Break has been approved... and you know as well as I that Panama isn't the real target."

She bit her lip. "JOSH-A base, in Alaska... with every bit of firepower ZAFT can muster." Her expression turned worried. "Are you sure you can handle that, Boss? It's going to be one huge furball out there, and _Archangel_ is only one ship. Without even _Hades_ to back you up..."

"I'll be fine." His face took on a grim look. "Remember Preybird's purpose; nothing at Alaska will be able to stop me... no matter how many lives must be taken," he finished bleakly.

"I'm sorry, Boss."

"Not your fault, Leanne. Mine... for getting us into this mess in the first place." Ken turned to the hatch, preparing to leave. "One more thing: contact Shiho. The time is coming when we must marshal our resources; we'll need every pilot, every political connection, every ship and mobile suit." He paused. "That includes _Arkbird,_ if she's still in our hands."

"She is, Boss," Leanne assured him. "In drydock right now, at the same place we began construction of Preybird; for that matter, where _Asmodeus_ is being constructed."

He nodded, with a wistful look. "Ah, Asmodeus... I wish Alicia were still here with us. Even if we can get Shiho back, we'll still have less than half of our pre-Endymion strength. I don't suppose you've found any likely recruits?"

She shook her head. "Sorry; not yet. At least, nobody we'd feel confident contacting at this point. Frankly, I'd like to assimilate the entire Zala team... but I don't think that's feasible at this point."

Ken followed her gaze to Athrun's huddled form, and nodded. "Quite."

"Could be worse; we're getting Nicol Amalfi -we think- and maybe Dearka, if you can get him to see reason." Leanne smiled suddenly, as a thought occurred to her. "You know... we may even be able to get Yzak Joule on our side."

He blinked. "Yzak? How?"

"Shiho's got a crush on him," she said simply. "And she happens to be just about the only person in the world who can persuade Yzak to do anything someone else wants him to do without a direct order."

"Hm." Ken frowned, rubbing his eyepatch. "Well, we can't count on it, but it's good to hear. In any case, for now we need to concentrate on marshaling the resources we _can_ count on. As soon as I leave, I'll send instructions for Tom and _Hades_ to relay up to the PLANTs. If it's not too late, we need to restart construction of _Arkbird._ What about her sister ship? The production model?"

_"Eternal_ isn't directly under our control," Leanne admitted. "But Sparky's been getting hints from Master Siegel that her intended captain -whenever construction is complete, which will take even longer than _Arkbird_ or _Asmodeus-_ is in the Clyne's camp. Ol' Spark's been trying to get more information, but Master Siegel's being cagey; I don't think he realizes what we've been up to, so he doesn't know that we have the same goal."

The ex-ZAFT ace came to a decision. "I'll have Sparky approach Chairman Clyne-" he refused to acknowledge Patrick Zala as the true chairman "-directly; he doesn't need to know about GENESIS, but he _does_ need to know that his faction isn't alone in this."

She nodded thoughtfully. "And Tom? What's his role?"

"He's going back to the PLANTs; with Preybird delivered, he'll do more good overseeing _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus._" Ken met her gaze squarely. "It's all coming to a head, Leanne. This cold war is about to get hot again, and when that happens, we _must_ be ready. That means bringing the team back together, and completing the ships. _And_ it means I need you to prepare the way in Orb."

"Got it, Boss."

He started out the hatch, then paused one last time. "Oh, yeah; Mu La Flaga sends his regards."

Leanne smiled. "Does he, now? Tell him I hope to see him soon, will you?"

Ken shot her an odd look. "Okay, fine; but when next we meet, _somebody_ is going to tell me just what is going on here."

Then he was gone, leaving his loyal minion to carry on in his absence.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, May 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

"Receiving a signal, Ma'am," Romero Pal reported. "A mobile suit just deactivated Mirage Colloid a hundred meters to our stern... Confirmed; it's Commander DiFalco's new machine." 

Murrue sighed in relief. "I was beginning to wonder if he'd turn up at all; he must've been busy the last few days. Tell him to land at once. We don't want him getting shot down by our own forces."

"Yes, Ma'am." Pal had the job of relaying the order, because Mir was still off-duty; even Natarle couldn't dispute that she was in no shape to do the job right now. Not after Tolle's death...

Several minutes later, Ken arrived on the Bridge, once again in his usual trench coat, and looking quite unruffled; but Murrue knew him well enough by now to see the dark gleam in his visible eye that was all the sign he'd permit himself of his own grief.

"Sorry I'm late, Murrue," he apologized. "Got sidetracked; a certain submarine needed orders, if you know what I mean."

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "If you thought it was that important, I'm sure it was; though I should mention that you only just made it. We're about to enter Alaska's air-defense zone, and I doubt they'd recognize Preybird as friendly."

"I know." Ken paused. "About that, Murrue... I'd prefer if Preybird not be mentioned to Earth Alliance Command, if it can be avoided."

Natarle looked up from CIC. "Excuse me, Commander? Why? And exactly how do you intend to hide something like that?"

"To answer your second question first," he said, "there are two factors. One: I doubt JOSHUA's personnel will be much interested in a thorough inspection of the ship; if I know rear-echelon pencil-pushing, desk-warming armchair tacticians -which I do- they'll be more concerned with the fact that we lost both the Strike and Raptor. Not to mention my CGUE, which they'd have regarded as a priceless intelligence asset. No, they'll see us in the worst possible light, I'm sure... desk jockeys specialize in it."

She grimaced, but didn't dispute it. "And the second factor?"

"They won't even see it," he said simply. "I activated its Mirage Colloid after landing... and this machine's power supply will last rather longer than you'd expect."

Murrue looked at him suspiciously. "I don't suppose you'd care to explain that?"

Ken shook his head. "No, I wouldn't. Sorry, Murrue, but there are some things I'd prefer not to discuss yet. Believe me, though, I'll explain at the earliest possible moment... which shouldn't be too long from now."

"I'm not even going to ask what you mean by that." All she knew -all she _needed_ to know- was that the ace was, as always, up to something. Whether it was good or ill... who could say? "But that brings us back to Natarle's first question: _why_ do you want to hide it from Headquarters?"

"Because I don't trust them," he said bluntly. "Rank-and-file Earth Forces people are your average mix of people; some hate Coordinators, some like them, and others couldn't care less either way. Some admirals are the same. You'll recall my encounters with Lewis Halberton. However... Headquarters, from all reports, is completely different. Those who might see Coordinators as human beings can't possibly be allowed into a sensitive post like Alaska. No, I suspect they'll see me as a useful tool, nothing more... which means they'd dearly love to get their hands on Preybird." He smiled slightly. "But only if they know it exists."

Murrue looked down into CIC. "What do you think, Natarle?"

Natarle was slow in answering. At length, though, she said, "Ordinarily, I'd be skeptical. However, in this case... given _who_ Commander DiFalco is, I'd say he's probably right, Captain. Especially given the rumors of Blue Cosmos influence in the upper levels of Command." She grimaced. "Though I suppose the Bloody Valentine was enough evidence of _that._ So yes, Captain, I'm afraid I agree with the Commander's analysis. It may be wise to keep a lid on some things for now."

Ken raised an eyebrow. "Not the sort of talk I'm used to hearing out of you, Lieutenant. Usually, you're a by-the-book type; outside of combat, that is." The slight smile returned. "Frankly, if you were planning the defense against one of my operations, I think I'd be pretty nervous."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as compliment," she said dryly. "As to why I'm saying this... let's just say that an officer who can't place the good of her ship over the good of a few rear-echelon chair-warmers isn't worth much, in my opinion. And coming from a long line of military officers, I can assure you I know what I'm talking about."

"I see..." Plainly, the brilliant pilot was impressed.

"Coming up on Alaska's air-defense zone, Captain," Pal reported. "They've accepted our IFF; intercept squadron says to proceed on course to JOSHUA Base."

Murrue sighed. "Tell them that we acknowledge." She looked back at her officers. "Ladies and gentlemen, our long journey is over."

Ken nodded, but inwardly felt very different. _No, it isn't... Actually, it's only just begun..._

Soon, the Shiva Option would become active. Either Patrick Zala's version would destroy everything Ken and his people had worked for... or the Gray Demons would come together, and send their esteemed former commander-in-chief back to the Stone Age.

* * *

Orb Transport Aircraft

* * *

Athrun was caught up in his own thoughts -his own grief- when the small compartment's hatch slid open, and Cagalli stepped in. As always, since he'd come aboard, she was shadowed by the woman in ZAFT red, with cocked-and-locked pistol; Leanne Eldridge seemed to have appointed herself as an extra bodyguard for the princess... one with the advantage of knowing how ZAFT pilots, and Athrun in particular, thought. 

Even scarier, she and Cagalli seemed to have become fast friends.

"Something up?" Athrun asked lifelessly.

"A ZAFT aircraft has arrived," Cagalli replied coolly. "They're waiting for you now, to take you back to Carpentaria."

He blinked. "Wha...? You're letting me go?"

"We don't have a choice," she informed him. "You're a ZAFT soldier; and ZAFT soldiers aren't permitted within Orb territory. Therefore, we're dropping you off with your own people before we cross the border." Her hard eyes met his. "Better that they take you off our hands, anyway. I don't know how safe you'd be here."

"In other words, Zala," Leanne said quietly, "she isn't sure she wouldn't blow your head off herself."

Athrun nodded, unsurprised. "All right." He stood, and walked toward the hatch. "I'll be going, then."

"Wait." The word seemed to come unwillingly from Cagalli's mouth, but she gripped his shoulder briefly. "Try not to get yourself killed," she told him. "I don't like you, and I don't know if I can ever forgive you for killing Kira... but someday we may meet again, under better circumstances. Maybe then, things will be a little different."

He swallowed. "Maybe." _But I'm not sure I _want _to survive,_ the ZAFT pilot thought to himself. _Can I live with myself... after what I've done?_

Athrun didn't know. He wasn't sure if he'd ever know... until the moment something happened.

Outside, he was taken across to the ZAFT transport plan on a small launch; and waiting for him was Yzak Joule, head bandaged, looking dour as always. "You," he said in disgust. "You dare to show your face, after everything...?"

"I destroyed the Strike like I promised," Athrun said softly. "And... I have important information now. About the Gray Demons... and that machine from last month."

Yzak's eyebrows went up. "You've been busy," he said grudgingly. "Not bad for someone who's been in Orb custody for a couple weeks. But what's this about the Gray Demons?"

"They can no longer be trusted," Athrun told him, and walked away.

* * *

After the ZAFT transport lifted off, a submarine surfaced a few meters from the Orb aircraft. Her call number was unfamiliar to Cagalli, but as Leanne showed no surprise at the vessel's arrival, she could guess who was in charge of the ship. 

She turned to her new friend and raised an eyebrow. "That's the one you've been talking about, right?"

Leanne nodded. "That's right. _Hades,_ one of three ships to be owned and operated by the Gray Demons; the other two being a pair of incomplete warships, up in space. I'm guessing her skipper is here to report... something. Not sure what, though..."

Sure enough, a hatch swiftly opened, and a gray-haired young ZAFT red stepped onto the upper deck. "Hey, Leanne!" he called.

"Right here, Tom," she replied, and turned to Cagalli. "Cagalli, this is Tom Delaney, our head grease monkey. Tom, this is Cagalli Yula Athha, heir of Orb."

Tom stepped aboard, and shook hands with the princess. "Pleased to meet you, Miss," he said. "The Boss speaks highly of you."

Cagalli smiled. "He'd better; he's gotten us both into enough scrapes in the last three months. So, what are you doing here, Mr. Delaney?"

"Call me Tom," he told her. "And what I'm here for is to report to Leanne." He turned to his teammate. "Nicol was sent up to the PLANTs last week; and he regained consciousness yesterday."

Leanne smiled in relief. "I'm very glad to hear that, Tom. Thanks."

Cagalli glanced between them, suspicious. "Nicol? Wait a minute... that's the guy Athrun said..."

She nodded. "Right, the guy Athrun says Kira Yamato killed. Well, being Nicol's cousin, as well as one of the people who found him after the battle, I can tell you that reports of his death were greatly exaggerated. The Strike's saber, it seems, hit just _above_ the cockpit; some of that massive energy discharge leaked in, but it wasn't enough to kill him. And when Blitz's cockpit was blown clear... Well, we recovered him."

The princess swallowed hard. "So Kira didn't do it? Then... Athrun killed him over nothing... and he died for nothing..."

Leanne gripped her shoulders. "Wait a minute, Cagalli," she said sharply. "That's not true, and you know it. He didn't kill Nicol, so Athrun wasn't avenging anything, sure. But that does _not_ mean Kira died for nothing. He was doing what he always did: protecting his comrades. And believe me, that's a lot more than what _my_ comrades died for at Endymion. I'm sorry he's gone, too... but he died as nobly as you can imagine."

Cagalli took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right..."

The test pilot turned back to her comrade. "Was there anything else?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah. I'm afraid we won't be seeing each other for awhile; as per the Boss's orders, I'm leaving for the PLANTs tonight, to resume construction of _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus._ Also..." He frowned. "I got a message from Sparky yesterday. He didn't say much -said it was too sensitive to entrust to even coded communications- but apparently, we've got a pilot lined up for the Freedom now."

Leanne bit her lip, puzzled. "I wonder who that could be? I doubt it's Shiho; even if he's managed to contact her, I don't think she'd willingly give up that CGUE DEEP Arms of hers. I swear, sometimes I think she's more in love with it than with Yzak..."

He laughed. "Could be. Well, Miss Cagalli, it was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go."

Cagalli nodded. "You have some way to get to orbit?"

"Yeah; we've got a shuttle waiting out at Kaohsiung. If I hurry, I can get to it before Zala can sound the alarm. If not..." Tom shrugged. "I'll figure it out. If you'll excuse me..."

The Gray Demon returned to his ship, which promptly submerged again, and Cagalli turned to Leanne. "Are all the Gray Demons like that?"

The Gray Demon laughed. "'Course we are; we wouldn't be Demons if we were sane, my friend. Besides, do you really think the Boss could come up with plans that brilliant if he weren't a little batty?"

"Now that you mention it... no."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Clyne Residence, April 23rd, C.E. 71

* * *

It was, as usual, a bright, sunny day in Aprilius One. Hardly a surprise, since the weather was artificial, and so minutely controlled; the only times it _wasn't_ a clear day were when a little rain was needed, to maintain the artificial environment of the colony. 

On this particular day, Lance "Sparky" Cooper keep half an eye on Lacus Clyne as she went about her business. He wasn't too concerned about assassination attempts -yet; Patrick Zala's election had caused him to lose a certain amount of sleep, but it hadn't yet alarmed him- and besides, Lacus had made it very clear to him that the individual lying unconscious in the bed in the gazebo was to be _very_ well-taken care of.

The big man chuckled to himself as Lacus chased her recalcitrant Haros around. That young man might be far more important than even Lacus realized; he'd just lost his mobile suit, which -assuming he chose to return to the battlefield- put him in the market for a new one. And Sparky and his people had just the machine in mind...

A Haro suddenly bounced into the gazebo, and Lacus followed after it, scolding. "Just a minute, Pink," she told it. "You shouldn't be disturbing him. He needs his rest..."

The ball-shaped robot paid her no heed, and leapt right onto the bed... thus causing the occupant's amethyst eyes to slowly open.

"Hello there, sleepyhead," Lacus said brightly. "How are you feeling?"

The brown-haired teenager looked at her blearily, not even awake enough to wonder what was going on, and Sparky smiled to himself.

_How would the Boss react,_ he wondered, _if he knew that the pilot we have in mind for Freedom is none other than Kira Yamato?_

* * *

Author's note: Athrun has been recovered, _Archangel_ has reached Alaska… and now a Gray Demon has joined Orb. Soon, events will begin to come together… 

Well, Falcon has had his first combat flight in Preybird, and now he's going to an Earth Forces base. Something of an eventful time ahead, I think. Well, till next time. Solid Shark


	25. Chapter 25: Conspiracy

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Joint Operational Strategic Headquarters, Alaska, Atlantic Federation, Conference Room, May 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

The room was very dark, with the only lighting coming from an overhead fluorescent lamp, hanging low over the table. The peculiar arrangements turned the officers sitting around the table into silhouettes, almost invisible even to each other. 

"So the _Archangel_ has returned," one man commented; in better lighting, his name tag would've read James Hamilton.

"Yes," another said; his tag read William Sutherland. "It took them three months, but they finally managed it; it appears Halberton was of some use, after all."

"Indeed," Charles Kreitzman noted. "His sacrifice enabled them to survive the battle in orbit; yet now that they've arrived, they may not have brought us what we needed."

"Yes," Hamilton agreed. "They arrived, but without the precious Strike."

"They lost the pilot, as well," Sutherland reminded them. "That alone makes the loss of the Strike worth it; we can't have it said that a child, a Coordinator no less, was flying it. This way we can keep the matter suitably under wraps."

"But what of the Raptor?" Kreitzman wondered. "And its pilot, who _did_ survive? What are we to do with _him?"_

"The Grimaldi Falcon has a lot of nerve coming openly to our headquarters," Hamilton mused. "He's got a lot of brazen gall, I'll grant him that."

"It's not gall," Sutherland told him. "It's overconfidence. He'll take whatever we throw at him, because he knows... knows about Spit Break. After all, it was all his plan, from the very beginning." In the darkness, he smiled. "He thinks he'll get the last laugh; but in the end, he will be the one who suffers. And from the same weapon that nearly killed him last time, no less."

"What do we do with him in the meantime?" Castor Truman questioned. "Do we allow that... that space monster to go about unhindered?"

"He's no threat," Sutherland said dismissively. "We can afford to indulge him for now; we might even learn something, though I doubt it. The important thing is that we can rid ourselves of this particular nuisance, when the time is right."

"Yes," Hamilton agreed. "It would be best to cut him orders for a transfer from _Archangel,_ however; keep him from suspecting anything. Then, when the time comes, we simply make sure that he hasn't enough time to leave the ten-kilometer limit."

"A fitting end," Kreitzman concurred. "He's been a thorn in our sides for too long; he would never have gotten this far if it weren't for Halberton's bizarre rapport with him. Now's the time to rectify that idiot's mistake."

"But what are you going to tell Azrael?" Truman asked. "He must be informed..."

Sutherland shrugged. "I told him all was under control; which it is. Once Spit Break begins, the spider will be caught in his own web; and he'll unwittingly lead his own comrades into it."

Hamilton frowned. "Do you believe the tale that claims DiFalco deserted, and is acting on his own?"

Another shrug. "Does it matter? Either way, the fools have so much confidence in his abilities that they're even still using his plans. That works very much in our favor."

"Yes..."

"Construction of the three new machines is still on track," Truman interjected. "Once the sacrifice has been made, our plans will proceed according to schedule."

"Yes..."

"And once the _Archangel_ -and DiFalco- are gone, the PLANTs will be at our mercy." Sutherland smiled. "For the preservation of our blue and pure world."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Clyne Residence, April 23rd, C.E. 71

* * *

Kira Yamato awoke slowly, and only gradually became aware of the face looking down at him; it took a few moments more before he dimly realized someone had spoken. 

"Hello there, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?"

He blearily tried to focus his eyes. "Where... am I...? What... happened...?"

"You're in my house," Lacus Clyne told him. "Reverend Malchio found you unconscious and brought you to me; but I'm afraid I don't know exactly what happened to you."

_Unconscious...?_ Kira strained his mind, trying to get it to focus, trying to remember what could possibly have led to him being knocked out. "It's... Miss Lacus, right?" he managed, filling the time while he fought to remember.

Lacus smiled. "Just Lacus is fine, Kira; but I'm pleased you remembered my name."

He nodded vaguely, and turned inward again. _There was... some kind of battle..._ he realized. _Raptor... went down... and... and... Tolle...?_

He sat bolt upright in the bed, eyes wide with horror; his breathing went into overdrive, entering hyperventilation, and Lacus looked at him in concern. "Kira! What's wrong?"

"I... I..." Kira gasped out. "I... fought with Athrun... I killed... his friend... and then... he killed... _my_ friend..." Behind his eyes, the battle played itself out again, every excruciating moment repeated in every tiny detail. "We fought... tried to... to... kill each other..."

She grasped his shoulder. "Kira..."

"But... why?" he whispered. "Why am I... still alive...?"

"I don't remember any of Athrun's friends getting killed," a new voice said, and Kira's eyes snapped over to the gazebo's door.

He looked at the green-haired youth who limped in, startled out of his panic. "Who...?"

The other teenager smiled. "I'm Nicol Amalfi; and if you're worried about killing the Blitz's pilot, don't. See, that's me."

Kira jerked in astonishment. "But... how...? I... killed you..."

Nicol shook his head. "Nope; came close, but you missed the cockpit, and _Hades_ picked me up after the dust cleared."

"_Hades...?"_

"A vessel controlled by a faction led by a friend of yours," said the room's other occupant, a black-haired man with a walking stick who had, heretofore, been silent. "Commander DiFalco's Gray Demons; though I believe some are beginning to call them the 'True ZAFT' faction."

Nicol nodded. "That's right; and now, I'm one of them." He smiled again. "Actually, I should thank you for shooting me down. It hurt a lot -still does," he admitted, "but it gave Leanne the chance to tell me the truth... and it may yet save Athrun." Learning the truth about Patrick Zala's intentions -about GENESIS- had been the biggest shock of his life; and when his father had learned of it, it had gained the Gray Demons a powerful ally.

Kira looked away. "But still... I tried... to kill Athrun..."

Lacus looked at the green-haired pilot, who nodded. "Look, Kira," Nicol said, "from what I hear you didn't have much of a choice. Athrun thought I was dead, so he decided to destroy you for it. If you hadn't fought to the best of your ability, he'd have done it, too; I know him. Look what happened to you anyway. And besides..." He looked away, knowing that this pain wasn't one he had any right to intrude upon. "He _did_ kill your friend; under the circumstances, in the heat of battle like that, nobody could expect you to act any different."

"Ken would," Kira said quietly, control returning. "He told me that vengeance has no place on the battlefield; he'd have expected different..."

Nicol actually chuckled at that, startling the brown-haired youth. "He may've said that; but if you believe it, you don't know anything about the Bloody Valentine. Leanne -that's Leanne Eldridge, my cousin- was there, and she told me later that Commander DiFalco went berserk and destroyed everything in sight. His own machine included, I hear; over-stressed it."

The black-haired man, the blind Reverend Malchio, nodded. "And I would suggest you may be putting too much faith in your mentor's words," he advised. "More than DiFalco himself would expect you to. You are your own man, Kira Yamato; you make your own decisions, and fight your own battles."

Kira closed his eyes. "But... was what I did... the right decision...?"

"That's a question only you can answer," Lacus told him. "Never let anyone else judge you when they weren't in your place. Choose your own path, Kira, and make your own judgments."

Kira Yamato lay back on the bed, and pondered those words, so like ones Ken DiFalco had told him, time and again.

* * *

_Archangel,_ May 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco found himself wandering the _Archangel_'s corridors, feeling very tense. He'd been tense from the moment the ship reached Alaska, of course; it _was_ Earth Alliance Headquarters, after all, and as far as they were concerned he was the enemy. 

_Fair enough,_ he thought to himself. _As far as _I'm _concerned, _they're _the enemy. Still... something isn't right here._ From the very start, Ken had expected that the JOSHUA brass wouldn't be happy with the _Archangel_ and her crew; having not one but two Coordinators aboard wouldn't be calculated to please them. But this...

The ship had been at Alaska for over a day now, plenty of time for the brass to get down to business, yet so far the only instructions they'd received had been to stand by aboard the ship. Not even instructions to report for debriefing... and that made the ace nervous.

Nor was that his only concern. Ken had been _very_ highly placed in ZAFT, with access to the details of _every_ operation being planned, as well as the influence to come up with several of his own. And from Sparky's latest report... he knew there was trouble coming.

Specifically, he knew Operation Spit Break was coming. To be sure, Murrue and the others knew essentially the same thing: that a major ZAFT operation was on the way. But they didn't know what he knew: that Spit Break's target was not Panama.

It was Alaska.

So he was understandably quite nervous at the prospect of being caught at the base when the operation got underway. Even with Preybird's -hidden- might, he wasn't sure he could take on _that_ many ZAFT units... at least not without using the Nataraja, which in his opinion would cause too much collateral damage. Still, if he had to...

"Blast it," Ken muttered in frustration. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. The Shiva Option should've ended it last year... but Patrick perverted it, forced me to fight my own comrades, my own plan... and now he's planning a role-of-the-dice operation, which will force me to kill even _more_ ZAFT soldiers..."

The only silver lining, as he saw it, was that all or nothing, do or die plans very rarely worked. In addition to being a master strategist in his own right, he was a student of military history, and knew that role-of-the-dice plans didn't work. Not, at least, without a grueling, step-by-step battle of attrition against the enemy forces.

_"You can only achieve success in a 'bold stroke' operation if your enemy is a complete idiot,"_ he'd once written, in the same paper that had attracted Zala's attention. _"Even when you have control of high orbit, and thus have the ability to land forces just about wherever you please, you still can't risk such a foolhardy operation. Sure, you can drop overwhelming force on the enemy's capital... but only if you uncover your own vital locations, which gives the enemy the opportunity to do the same thing to you. The bold stroke is a double-edged sword; a strike you should never attempt, and if you do, you had best hope your enemy's leaders are as stupid as the micro-managing politicians who lost the Vietnam War in the twentieth century, when the military, given a freer hand, could've ended the war in a week."_ Ken smiled to himself at the memory. _"Of course, if the enemy's government _is _stupid enough to keep their forces on such a tight leash, remember what one man famously -and idiotically- said: 'They couldn't bomb an outhouse without my personal authorization.' If you've got an enemy like that, they won't even be able to respond before you drop the hammer on them..."_

The only problem was, the Earth Forces very nearly _were_ that handicapped... and, thanks in large part to Ken's own efforts, Zala had the overwhelming force he needed.

Alaska was doomed; there was no doubt of that. The only question now was how to arrange the _Archangel_'s survival... and what the brass were up to by keeping the ship and her crew in suspense for this long.

So he was tense... and knew absolutely nothing he could do about it.

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Clyne Residence, May 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

Kira's second conscious week in the Clyne Residence had so far been much calmer than the first. The knowledge of Tolle's death still had him very depressed, but meeting Nicol Amalfi -miraculously alive- had at least eased his guilt. 

He even knew that Athrun was alive; Lacus had confirmed that, which was quite a load off his mind. Now, all he had to do was lie there, and recover. But what he'd do after that...

Kira really didn't know. Strike was gone, and the _Archangel_ far beyond his reach. Was this to be his course, spending the remainder of the war in the PLANTs recovering his strength? Was he to leave the rest of the fighting to those who did it willingly, like his mentor, the Grimaldi Falcon?

He didn't know. But at least he seemed to have plenty of time to think about it.

He looked up when the door to the gazebo slid open, admitting a huge man in ZAFT red. There was a katana at his side, and he had a perpetual facial tic; there were also a number of old scars visible, faint traces of what looked like blade wounds.

Kira had seen the man before, usually shadowing Lacus like an enormous bodyguard -which he was, though the youth didn't know it- but hadn't actually spoken to him before; so he was slightly startled when a rumbling voice emanated from the big man.

"You're looking better than when the Reverend brought you in," he remarked. "Frankly, I was amazed you were still alive; you're made of sterner stuff than normal people, just like the Commander. So how ya feeling, kid?"

"Uh... not bad," Kira managed. "Uh, I'm, uh-"

"Kira Yamato," the big man said, nodding. "I know. And I'm Lance Cooper, but you can call me Sparky." As if to confirm this, his face twitched again.

_Sparky..._ The nickname seemed familiar, so Kira took another look at the sword. It looked like... "Wait a minute... you're one of...?"

Sparky nodded again. "That's right, kid; I'm a Gray Demon, or 'True ZAFT', as some people are calling us now. The Commander is your buddy Falcon; best pilot I ever flew with."

Kira frowned. "But... if you're a Gray Demon, what are you doing _here?_ Ken told me you guys are still working for him..."

"That's right, we are," the big pilot acknowledged. "But we needed cover stories; and the Boss figured Master Siegel probably needed protection anyway, so I got the job." He grinned. "So far, nobody's tried anything fancy; don't know why."

Kira, reflecting on the man's huge build, had a feeling he _did_ know why. He knew _he_ wouldn't want to tangle with somebody that big. "I... see..." The information that Ken himself had given Sparky his current assignment reminded him of something else, and he frowned. "Can I ask you something, Commander?"

"That's Sparky," Sparky reminded him, but nodded. "Go ahead; what's on your mind?"

"I was just wondering... Ken was always talking about messages he got from you guys... so would you know if the _Archangel_'s...? I mean, are they okay?"

"Haven't heard from the Boss in awhile," the big man said slowly, "but it's nothing to worry about. See, they just entered Alaska's air-defense zone, so he can't risk any messages. So yeah, if you're asking if they're safe from ZAFT right now, they sure are. But Alaska... I don't know if they'll be safe from the _Earth Forces_ there. The Boss seemed mighty worried about it, anyway..."

Kira nodded, relieved that _Archangel_ had reached safe harbor, and slightly disturbed that they might have problems with their own superiors. But it wasn't really a surprise; Ken had muttered about it from time to time, after all.

But while the ship might be safe, there was someone else...

He looked up. "There was another person... in Orb, a girl named Cagalli..."

Sparky grinned. "She's fine, kid; Leanne -that's Leanne Eldridge; you've never met her, but she saved your hide outside Orb, flying Preybird- the Boss dispatched her to Orb, and last I heard she and the princess were getting along like a house on fire. You don't have to worry, kid."

Kira nodded, biting his lip. "But... she must think I'm... I'm dead. I don't want her to go through that..."

The Demon nodded solemnly. "I know what you mean, Kira, and I sympathize. She's important to you -and I'll wager you're important to _her_, too- and you don't want her going through grief like that. I wish I could help... but I can't afford to send a message like that down to Earth. The information that you're alive is too sensitive to risk being picked up by Patrick's agents."

That confused the youth. "Why would that...?"

Sparky gave him a shrewd glance. "Let's just say that you may be more important than you know, kid. Important enough that the Boss would skin me alive if I took a chance like that."

"What do you mean?" Kira demanded.

The only response was a slight smile, and, "It's not something you need to worry about right now. At the moment, the only thing you should be worrying about is getting yourself back into something resembling good health. Can't do even yourself any good as you are."

The huge pilot promptly left, and Kira lay back on the bed, thinking to himself that speaking in riddles was obviously a contagious disease, and all the Gray Demons had caught it.

* * *

PLANTs, Martius Three, True ZAFT Headquarters, May 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

The Gray Demons had once again gathered to meet in their "abandoned" headquarters for a meeting; but this time there were only the two of them. 

Nonetheless, there were important matters to discuss. "So how's the kid doing?" Tom Delaney asked, gazing through the viewport at the pair of ships being constructed in the harbor there. "He recovering okay?"

Sparky snorted. "Kid? He's only a couple years younger than _you,_ Tom. But yeah, he's doing fine; getting blown halfway to the moon doesn't seem to have done anything permanent. Reverend Malchio did a first-rate job to begin with, so I suppose he'll be as recovered as he'll ever be in just a couple days. As it is, he just tires easily; he'll be okay when the time comes."

Tom nodded. "_If_ the time comes," he pointed out. "You know he might decide to sit the rest of the war out; and frankly, I wouldn't blame him."

The bigger man sighed. "Yeah, I know. I wouldn't either; but it would be a real waste of his potential if he did. Which reminds me," he went on, shifting gears, "how's the X10A project going?"

"Freedom was completed this morning," Tom told him. "Everything's in place; and we're in a position to hijack it if the time comes."

"When," Sparky corrected sadly. "There's no more doubt, Tom: we cannot allow Patrick to use machines with nuclear reactors. As it is, we've failed to prevent the construction of GENESIS; if we leave Freedom and Justice in his possession, I don't know if even the Boss can stand up to them both. We _have_ to have at least one of them under our control. That's what we need Kira for."

"I know." Tom sighed. "Look, Sparky, whatever happens, we _can_ take Freedom. Even if we don't have a proper pilot for it, we can at least get it out of circulation, maybe stow it on _Arkbird_ or _Asmodeus;_ and if things get really desperate, we can probably seize _Eternal_ herself... though to do _that,_ we'd have to come completely out of the shadows."

Sparky nodded. "Yes, that's true... but we may not have a choice." He began to pace, occasionally glancing at the two incomplete warships. "This is how it stands, Tom: Patrick has complete control of ZAFT, almost total dominance over the Supreme Council... and approval for Spit Break. Once that plan is launched, _Archangel_ will become a factor again... and the true mission will begin. For that, we need every asset we can muster, including both ships, any mobile suits we can steal, and all the pilots we can get."

"Somebody call me?"

They both turned in surprise, to see a brown-haired woman in ZAFT red enter the room, smiling. Like them, she had a sword at her side... and the gray feathers pinned to her collar -a touch _not_ present on their uniforms- seemed to indicate her intentions.

She raised an eyebrow at their expressions. "What, you didn't expect me to show up? Look, you two, when I get an anonymous note saying that a couple of survivors from Endymion are looking for me, it doesn't take a genius to figure out who... or where."

Sparky simply blinked, his facial tic going into overdrive, but Tom burst out laughing. "Shiho Hahnenfuss, you always did have a way with words, didn't you? Shoulda known you'd know it was us; but how _did_ you find us, anyway? I was figuring we'd be meeting someplace neutral, while we felt out your attitude toward our current leader."

Shiho shook her head. "You think this place was hard to find? Not when I know you as well as I do. I remembered you guys saying something about constructing the _Arkbird,_ but when I never heard anything about it from official channels, I started to wonder, and did some checking of my own. And you know what I found? That before Jachin, you two and Commander DiFalco were stationed at this very base. With it now decommissioned, what better place for some old Demons to hole up?"

Sparky winced. "Remind me to be more careful in the future; Victor might've found this place, and then we'd be in _real_ trouble."

She shot him a surprised look. "Victor? You don't mean Victor _Tempest,_ do you? I thought he was supposed to be dead."

"He was," Tom said grimly. "But apparently the Boss didn't kill him dead _enough,_ so we have to worry about that psycho turning up at inconvenient times." He waved a hand. "Anyway, long story, which we don't have time for now. So what brings you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Shiho smiled again. "I'm coming back to the unit, and I brought a DEEP Arms with me; the original prototype, not like the production model Huckebein -should have recognized _that_ name right away- got sliced up in when the Eighth Fleet got wiped out."

Sparky nodded thoughtfully. "That's right, I heard you were the test pilot... Well, I'm glad you're here, Shiho. We need all the people we can get right now." His expression darkened. "You know about GENESIS?"

"Yeah." Yes, she knew about GENESIS... which was one of the reasons she was here. "So, where's Leanne? Last I heard, she was still around..."

"She's fine," Tom told her, with a smile. "She's on Earth right now, in Orb. You may not believe this, but she and the Princess Cagalli Yula Athha seem to be fast friends."

Shiho winced. "Those two? Ugh... I'd rather they'd never met. They're so much alike it's scary... But how did the Chief Representative's daughter get involved in all this?"

Sparky dropped into a chair, nearly breaking it in the process. "Seems she was on Heliopolis when it all went down; and later, she was in Africa when the _Archangel_ turned up. She ended up as the Boss's gunner, before his machine went to pieces... and apparently she's the best friend of the kid we're thinking of putting in the Freedom."

Tom snorted. "Best friend? C'mon, Sparky, from Leanne's reports I'd say it went a little further than that, whether either of 'em realizes it or not."

Shiho looked at them suspiciously. "Let me get this straight: you're thinking of stealing one of ZAFT's new nuclear-powered machines... and to pilot it, you've got access to the Princess' boyfriend?"

Sparky coughed. "Well... essentially, yes, if you want to call it that. Personally, I think Tom's reading too much into it... but not by all that much."

She rolled her eyes, amused by his discomfort. "Sparky, get a girlfriend," she advised, and turned back to Tom. "So, you guys have quite the conspiracy going, it seems. Just how long have you been plotting, anyway? Judging from the progress on those ships, you've obviously at it awhile now."

Tom nodded. "Since last September, when the Boss deserted. It took us a couple months to get everything together -resources, people, and the hunk of metal that's starting to look like the _Arkbird_- but by November, we had things in place."

"Things really got into high-gear in February," Sparky interjected, "when the Boss analyzed the G-weapon data, came up with a machine of his own design, and transmitted the specs to us via Miss Lacus."

Shiho's eyes narrowed. "A new machine... that wouldn't happen to be the unit that caused the Zala team trouble back in March, would it? I remember reading reports of some kind of superweapon that took all four of them out of the fight in less than thirty seconds. I thought it was an exaggeration..."

"It wasn't," a new voice said from the doorway. "And if it'd been anybody but Leanne piloting it, we'd probably have been killed there."

She spun around. "Nicol Amalfi?" she said, startled. "But you're supposed to be..."

"Dead?" Nicol smiled. "So they say; but Kira -the Strike pilot- managed to miss Blitz's cockpit... barely. The _Hades_ picked me up and got me into the Infirmary in time, and then I got sent up here for recovery... and briefing."

Shiho gave the assembled pilots a shrewd look. "Let me guess... you've got Representative Amalfi on your side, don't you? It's the only thing that makes sense; after everything you've been doing, you'd _need_ someone on the Supreme Council to squash any reports that you've turned on ZAFT."

"That's right," Sparky confirmed. "Carpentaria's attempted to send reports to the homeland that we're no longer to be trusted -seems Athrun Zala got a talking-to from both the Boss and Leanne, and passed the word on- but a few of our agents have managed to intercept the reports and suitably... edit them before anyone like Patrick sees them. Only a matter of time, of course, but we're safe enough for now."

Only a matter of time... which told her why construction of those two ships had so obviously been expedited. Why Leanne Eldridge was on detached assignment in Orb... and why she herself had been called in after nearly a year away from the team.

_They're getting ready,_ Shiho realized. _They're getting ready to completely sever ties with ZAFT... and before they do, they need to squeeze every last tool they can out of the organization. Which includes me..._

"All right, you guys," she said finally. "You've convinced me; I'm in. What's the plan?"

Sparky began to lean back in his chair. "For now? Nothing. We wait for Spit Break to begin... and then, I suspect, Master Siegel and Miss Lacus will take the necessary steps _for_ us."

"You sure are confident," Shiho mused. "I hope you've read them right."

"Of course we have," he said confidently... and the back of his chair snapped, dropping him to the floor.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria/Corridor/Infirmary, May 4th, C. E. 71

* * *

It had been a rough time for Mir Haw, since Tolle Koenig's death. Even now, two weeks later, she couldn't cope with it; she wandered around in a daze, barely even eating, while others filled her post on the Bridge. Even Natarle Badgiruel knew, however much she might disapprove, that Mir was in no condition to man her station right now. 

Now she sat in the cafeteria, absently looking at her food, listening to the chatter around her. Some of it was cheerful, some melancholy -quite aside from Tolle, Kira's death had hit the entire ship hard- and some simply frustrated.

"We've been at the base for two days now," mechanic Jack Johnson complained. "Yet they still insist we 'remain on standby' and won't let any of us off the ship."

"Yeah," Frank Catrone agreed. He, too, was a mechanic, and going stir-crazy himself. "They tell us to just keep on working... but work on what? All we've got are two Skygraspers -on which we've done everything but polish the wheel wells- the Commander's Moebius Zero -useless in atmosphere- and Commander DiFalco's new machine, which he won't let anybody near. What are we supposed to do?"

Mir felt her muscles tighten, hearing that litany... and noticing, naturally, that the machine Tolle had flown wasn't among those listed.

"You really should get something to eat, Mir," Sai said softly, appearing at her elbow. "You need your strength..."

But somehow, he wasn't surprised when she ignored him. _She's been like this ever since,_ he mused. _If only there was some way to get through to her..._ Although he was found Mir's reaction _far_ more reassuring than Flay's; it was hard to tell _what_ that girl felt these days. He wasn't even sure if she was genuinely grieving... though he _did_ know she'd had some kind of blistering argument with Kira, before he went... _MIA_, he told himself. _They still haven't found a body... _And with Kira missing, Birdy had, for whatever reason occurred to its robotic brain, chosen to follow Sai around, and now perched on his shoulder.

"Why don't we kill some time by repairing the Buster?" Johnson suggested. "It's in pretty bad shape; could occupy us for awhile."

Catrone thought about that. "You know, that's not a bad idea. It took quite a few hits before we finally brought it down, so why not?"

"Although..." Johnson frowned. "It _is_ an enemy machine..."

"Not originally," Catrone pointed out. "It was ours at first, so why not make it ours again? Besides, Commander DiFalco would probably be happy; they say that pilot used to be his best friend..."

Sai sighed. "Come on, Mir," he said quietly, standing. "You should get some rest." He began to carefully guide her to the hatch... someplace where she wouldn't hear constant reminders of Tolle's death.

As they stepped out into the corridor, he wondered idly if Ken would be of any help. On the one hand, he still seemed a cold-calculating young man; but on the other... _On the other hand, the whole ship knows about that photo by now. Whoever she was, it was grief that pushed him onto the path that eventually led to his leaving ZAFT..._

Sai was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the footsteps coming from behind him until a voice joined them. "Sai?"

He looked over his shoulder, to see a certain red-haired girl watching him. "Flay? What is it?"

Before she could reply, Birdy took flight, flying right at her, and Flay's eyes went wide. She remembered another time the little robotic bird had done such a thing... when Kira's shoulder was still its perch. _When Kira... was still..._

She threw up an arm, warding the robot off. "No, stop it! Get away!"

As though miffed, Birdy wheeled around, soaring down another corridor. "Don't do that," Sai said reprovingly. He and Kira hadn't been on the best of terms for the last couple months, but seeing his treasured pet treated so... He took hold of Mir's shoulder again, and turned away. "If it's not urgent," he told the red-haired girl, "we'll talk later."

Flay blinked in surprise. "Sai, wait!"

_"Excuse_ me." Sai guided Mir to the Infirmary hatch; it seemed the best place right now. "Just wait inside here," he told her gently. "We'll see about getting a prescription or something from the Doctor... something so that you can get some rest. Sound good?"

Mir didn't reply, but she did wander over to the stool next to one of the sickbeds -one which happened to have the curtains drawn- and sat, feeling just as dazed and depressed as she had in the days since Tolle's death. She wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings... so the voice that spoke from behind her came as quite the surprise.

"Hey, Doc! How long are you just going to leave me here, huh?"

She spun around, eyes wide, and came face-to-face with Dearka Elsman... who looked just as startled as she was.

Out in the corridor, Sai turned back to Flay. "What do you want?" he asked wearily.

She blinked; this wasn't how she'd expected the conversation to go. "What? Well, I..." _How do I say this?_ Flay wondered. _After everything with Kira, how do I get him to listen to me...?_

He seemed to almost read her mind. "Tolle is missing," he sighed, "Kira's missing... the whole ship seems depressed. Nobody's feeling very good right now... and that includes me."

Flay swallowed. "What are you trying to say...?"

"I'm sorry," Sai cut her off. "But I'm in no condition to comfort you. Go ask someone else," he advised, and turned back toward the Infirmary.

"Sai, wait!" She thought fast. "Because..." _That's it!_ "Because... I still have feelings for you!" _That should get his attention..._

His reaction surprised her. "Flay," he said, tone sounding almost like a warning...

"All along," Flay persisted desperately, "you _must_ have known. Kira... wasn't the one I _really_ wanted!" _He _has _to believe me..._

Sai rounded on her. "Flay, that's enough!" he snapped angrily. "You _did_ have feelings for Kira!" _You might not have admitted it, even to yourself -and Kira might not have truly shared it- but it's true... and why there's nothing more between us._

"You're wrong!" she said hotly.

"I'm _not!"_ His vehemence shocked her, and he used that reaction ruthlessly to hammer his point home. "Kira was... a better man than any of us," he ground out. "Because... because that's the way he was! You may not have realized it at the beginning, but there _was_ something between you two, and you know it!"

Flay shook her head violently. "You're wrong! You're wrong, you're wrong, _you're wrong!"_

In the Infirmary, Dearka had quickly recovered his equilibrium, even as Mir shot to her feet, looking almost like a frightened rabbit. "Why are you staring at me?" he wondered, with a slight smile. "You find me...unusual? Or are you just frightened? Relax, why don't you," he advised, sitting up. "I couldn't be any more tied up." Indeed, his wrists were tied behind his back, with restraints attached directly to the bed.

Mir couldn't tear her eyes from this... this... _He's one of the ones who was out there when Tolle... when Tolle..._ Her eyes began to mist. _He's..._ Her gaze strayed toward a nearby tray... on which lay a surgical knife...

Dearka lay back again, eyes closed. "But what I _really_ want to know is, why are you crying again? It's hard to believe a ship like this would have such a crybaby onboard." He chuckled. "You've got no business being a soldier if you're that afraid."

It wasn't really his fault; he'd gotten into the habit of being sarcastic toward Naturals for the simple reason that the only Natural he knew very well was his best friend's sister, Sophia, who he remembered with a certain amount of scorn.

And then he made his final, almost fatal, mistake.

"Or maybe..." he drawled, "your good-for-nothing Natural boyfriend went and bought the farm or something."

He didn't notice the knife coming for him until it was almost too late.

Dearka's eyes snapped open, and he sat upright just in time to ensure that it was his pillow, instead of his head, that got perforated. "What are you _doing?"_ he demanded. "You're psycho!"

Mir, rage on her face, didn't reply. Instead, she lunged for him again, and sent both him and herself crashing to the deck, ripping through the curtain in the process... and opening a cut on Dearka's head.

At that moment, the Infirmary hatch opened again, and Sai stepped back in, trying to ignore Flay's shouted denials. His eyes instantly went wide, and he practically teleported across the compartment. "Mir!" he called out, grabbing her arms. "What are you _doing?"_

Ken, who had been on his way to check on his old friend, entered a split-second later. "What the- Miriallia!" With two quick strides, he, too, was at her side, reaching for the knife; he was oblivious to Flay's entrance.

"Tolle's gone!" Mir burst out, struggling with them both. "And he's never coming back! And yet this _freak...!"_ Her mouth twisted in hate. "What is this murderer _doing_ here?"

Dearka's eyes went wide, and in that instant he began to realize that his comment had been entirely too close to the truth. _No... I... I didn't mean..._

Ken finally succeeded in getting hold of the knife, and he flung it across the room, where it embedded itself in a bulkhead, "Come on, Miriallia," he said quietly, in as soothing a tone as he could manage. "Come on. He's not responsible..." _But _I _am,_ he thought to himself. _I should've been able to do something; but I was locked in a death-duel..._

Flay, too, heard the "murderer" remark, and her eyes strayed to a gun that happened to be in the room. What it was doing in a drawer in the Infirmary, she didn't know... but she _did_ know how to use it... and whom it ought to be used _on..._

Mir, by now, had subsided into sobs in Sai's arms. "Sai... Tolle's gone..." she whispered. "Why is he gone...?"

"I don't know, Mir," he said softly, torn up inside by her grief. "I just don't know..."

It was Ken's keen -and experienced- ears that first registered the sound of a pistol's slide racking back, chambering a round, and his eyes snapped to Flay. _What does she think she's doing...?_

Flay's eyes were filled with hate. "All of you Coordinators..." she hissed, "...will get what you deserve!"

Those words seemed to reverberate through the compartment, and two figures lunged toward her. Ken instinctively interposed his body between Dearka and the gun... and got shot in the left shoulder for his troubles, while Mir got her hands on the gun, forcing it toward the ceiling and knocking Flay over just in time to redirect the second shot into the deckhead.

Ken was back on his feet in an instant, his katana flashing out, and the pommel crashed into Flay's temple, knocking her unconscious.

The entire event had taken perhaps five seconds, maybe less; and the only spilled blood came from Dearka's cut and Ken's shoulder wound. _It could've been worse,_ the ace thought grimly, painfully sheathing his blade. _And it would've been, if Miriallia hadn't decided -for whatever reason- that Dearka wasn't worth killing after all..._

The Infirmary hatch slid open as Ken was picking up the fallen gun, and Chandra and a security man charged in. "What happened in here?" Chandra demanded. "We heard gunshots-"

"It's over," Ken told him calmly, and fixed his attention on the pistol. "I _hate_ these things," he muttered, gripping the handle in one hand and the slide in the other; then he yanked hard, separating slide from pistol. "I suggest you get Dearka out of here," he went on, "and put him in the brig; he'll be safer there."

Chandra nodded. "Got it, Commander." He glanced at the prostrate -and unconscious- Flay, and the sobbing Mir. "What about them?"

"I'll handle it." The ace looked over at Dearka. "We'll talk soon enough," he told him. "I think we need to clear up a few matters."

Dearka nodded wearily. "You're probably right."

As his friend was led out, Ken turned his attention to those remaining in the room. "Sai," he began, "you'd better get Miriallia out of here; I'll want to talk to her shortly... but first I have to deal with Flay. And my shoulder," he added ruefully.

Sai nodded, shaken. "Okay, Falcon. Come on, Mir," he said softly, and carefully guided her out of the compartment.

Ken nodded to himself, and gazed at the prone figure. In a calculated move, he reached up and pulled off his eyepatch, revealing the Prussian blue eye beneath... the one that many found so disturbing. "And that just leaves... you," he murmured.

No one would ever know if Flay would've recovered consciousness at that moment on her own; because the cold fury in the ace's voice, so completely out of character, was more than enough to rouse her... and she found herself staring at the most frightening sight she'd ever laid eyes on. "F-Falcon?" she gasped out, seeing the cold fury -and, almost worse, the bizarre silver tracery- in those cold blue eyes. "What-?"

"You're lucky I didn't just kill you," Ken said, very coldly. "You just tried to kill my best friend, and if you'd succeeded, I assure you that the cleaning crew would have quite the job, cleaning up the Infirmary. Death by the sword tends to be messy, you know."

"But..." Flay swallowed hard. "But he was the enemy-"

"Dearka Elsman is my best friend, and, more importantly, a prisoner of war." He fingered his sheathed sword; the idle action wasn't very reassuring. "One thing ZAFT and the Earth Forces have in common: we don't harm prisoners of war. And if you'd been in ZAFT, I'd be within my authority to summarily execute you, Flay. As it is, you're lucky I'm not even bringing you up on charges."

She blinked. "W-what charges?"

"Attempted murder of a POW," Ken answered frostily. "And assaulting a superior officer. You do remember that I outrank you, correct, _Crewman_ Allster?"

She nodded, almost convulsively. "So- so what _are_ you going to do with me?"

"I'm going to let you go with a warning." He stood, replaced his eyepatch, and turned toward the hatch. "If it weren't for the fact that you're out of your mind -and have been since your father bought it- I'd bring you up on charges right here, right now. As it is... if you try a harebrained stunt like that again, don't expect me to settle for using the _pommel_ of my sword."

The ace swept out of the compartment, leaving a very, very shaken Flay behind.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Crew Quarters

* * *

After delivering her here, Sai had tactfully decided to go elsewhere for the time being, so now Mir sat alone on a bunk, still feeling miserable, but finally shaken out of the funk she'd been in for weeks. 

Still, she wasn't inclined to talk to anyone just now, and didn't even look up when she heard the hatch chime. "Not now, Falcon," she said wearily, knowing whom it had to be. "I don't feel like talking right now."

The ace didn't even sigh. "First of all, Miriallia," he said quietly, "you can call me Ken. And second... we really do need to talk. About _him."_

There was only one person _he_ could be, under the circumstances; and Mir thought to herself that perhaps she should hear Ken out. After all, she _had_ just tried to kill his best friend. So, she silently keyed the hatch, allowing the ace to enter.

Ken moved with characteristic silence, his martial arts training having prepared him well for tactful movement. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

She knew he wasn't referring to her _physical_ well-being. "Better," Mir said, after a long silence. "Not _good..._ but better than I've been since..." She trailed off, unable to finish, and occupied herself by looking the ace over... which was when she noticed the bandages on his shoulder, and remembered what had occurred. "I'm sorry you got hurt," she said softly. "My fault..."

He shook his head. "No, it wasn't; you were merely the catalyst that sparked Flay into action. Had you not acted, something similar would doubtless have happened before long anyway. I don't blame you, Miriallia; not for something like that."

Mir nodded. _But, still..._ "But... I tried to kill your friend," she murmured. "You should hate me for that..."

"I understand why you acted as you did, Miriallia," Ken said gently. "I've been where you are, you know; I know _exactly_ how you feel."

She looked up sharply. "You... do?"

"Yes." He turned toward the bulkhead, his face in shadow; his voice revealed little, save remembered pain. "Long ago, I went through the same thing... losing one I loved. I took it out on the enemy. You could not; until you found the one ZAFT man aboard." He turned back to her. "No, I don't blame you; and you're wrong, you know, about Dearka being the only ZAFT soldier aboard." To her increasing surprise, the ace reached into his trench coat, pulled out his sidearm, and held it out to her. "I did something far worse than Dearka," he said softly. "If you need to shoot someone to get through this... then let it be me. You'd probably be doing the world a favor."

Mir looked at the gun, then back at him. "You can't be serious... what did you _do...?"_

"Exactly what isn't important," Ken told her. "What matters is that I have things I must atone for; they're what set me on the path that led to our meeting in the first place. And if that atonement requires my death... perhaps it's a fitting end for the Grimaldi Falcon."

Mir shook her head. "No, Ken; I can't kill you. You're too important to this ship... and I can't let you die until I've gotten _some_ kind of emotional reaction out of you."

The humor, however small it was, brought a relieved look into the pilot's eyes. "I guess you _are_ felling better," he murmured, and slipped the gun back into his coat. "Then I suppose there isn't much more that needs to be said. But let me leave you with this, Miriallia: give Dearka a chance. I know he's sarcastic, and abrasive... and a jerk," he admitted, with a slight smile. "But before you judge how he treats Naturals, let me tell you this: the only Natural he's ever known very well is Sophia... back during her more abrasive period."

She nodded in sudden comprehension. "So he's sarcastic..."

"...Because he learned about Naturals from experience with the wrong person," Ken agreed. "Now, they might actually get along... but first I have to tell _him_ that."

Mir raised an eyebrow. "And if he doesn't believe you?"

He pretended to consider that, an uncharacteristic gleam of mischief in his eye. "Then I smack him upside the head with a dead fish," he intoned solemnly, and left.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Brig

* * *

Dearka somehow wasn't surprised when, after he'd been in the cell only a few minutes, the brig's hatch slid open again, admitting a dark figure in a gray trench coat. "I figured you'd be turning up soon, Falcon," he said easily, trying to ignore the pain in his face, where the knife had cut him. "Care to explain why two different people tried to murder me in less than two minutes?" 

Ken wasn't fooled by the phrasing; his friend's face and tone indicated that he'd been more disturbed by the incident than he'd care to admit. "One was explained by the fact that she lost someone close to her recently," he said calmly. "As for the other... the simple fact is that Flay is nuttier than a fruitcake."

Dearka grinned a little at that. "That's more like the Falcon I used to know. Glad to see that even joining the enemy hasn't _totally_ destroyed your sense of humor."

"It wasn't joining the _Archangel_ that did it," the ace replied, suddenly solemn. "It was... the Bloody Valentine. You know what happened there..."

The ZAFT pilot frowned, seeing the distant, melancholy look in his friend's visible eye. "You're still not over her, are you?" Dearka said softly.

"Did you expect any different?" Ken's face had closed, and all the emotion had vanished from his voice, as though he'd been replaced by an automaton, Purpose Personified.

Dearka sighed. "Falcon... you can't keep this up forever. It'll destroy you one day, you know. You have to let it go..."

"This particular discussion was closed a long time ago, Dearka," Ken said coldly. "I won't reopen it today... or ever."

"Yeah... I figured you'd say that." _It's not as if we haven't been over this dozens of times since then..._

"Now," the ace resumed, life returning to his voice, "to business. Just what in the world did you _say_ to her, anyway? I've never seen Miriallia Haw _do_ something like that before."

Dearka thought back. "What I said was... I wondered if maybe her 'good for nothing Natural boyfriend' had bought the farm or something. I was just kidding..."

Ken shook his head in disgust. "You idiot," he said succinctly. "That was probably the _worst_ thing you could _possibly_ have said at that particular moment. Don't you know that her boyfriend _did_ buy the farm in the last battle?"

The ZAFT pilot went white. "He... he did...?" He swallowed. "Falcon, you gotta believe me. I _never_ would've said that if I'd..."

The ace nodded. "I know, Dearka, relax. I know you're sarcastic -especially toward Naturals- but I also know that you're not cruel enough to do something like that on purpose."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Dearka said dryly, recovering his usual cocky exterior. "But speaking of sarcasm and Naturals, is your sister still around? If she is, don't let her anywhere near the brig."

"Yeah, she's still aboard," Ken confirmed. "But, believe it or not, we've actually patched things up in recent months. Since learning that she's an ace pilot herself, I've gained something of an... understanding with Sophia. Combat veterans like us can understand each other better than others could hope to."

Dearka snorted. "I suppose it's this... understanding... that caused you to defect, right?"

"No." The ace leaned against the bulkhead, looking pensive. "No, Dearka, until you guys attacked Heliopolis, I never had any intention of joining the Earth Forces. But the combination of the new Earth machines and ZAFT stealing four of them forced my hand; I had no choice but to take action. The fate of the world depended on it... and still does."

Coming from anyone else, his friend would've dismissed that as an incredibly arrogant statement. From Ken DiFalco, on the other hand, it was only _mildly_ arrogant. His track record on the battlefield and in war rooms was enough to make Dearka think that there was at least _some_ truth in that statement... at least within Ken's current world view.

"What on earth are you so afraid of, anyway?" he demanded at last. "What could _possibly_ have made you _do_ this?"

"Patrick's madness," Ken said softly. "I... had a part in it, which haunts me even now. I won't go into detail -it's too dangerous, and, frankly, I'd rather not burden anyone else with it- but suffice it to say that Patrick's goal _is_ the extermination of all Naturals... and when I left ZAFT, it was with the intent of stopping it. That's why my loyal Demons have been working in the shadows since then, constructing Preybird... and several other useful things." He began to pace, though he seemed unaware of it. "Dearka, the war we've fought so far is not the real war; no, the _real_ conflict has not yet begun. I think it will soon, though... and that's why I've acted as I have so far."

Dearka shook his head in bemusement. "What's this 'real war' that you're talking about, anyway? How can the war to avenge the Bloody Valentine and gain independence for the PLANTs not be the true conflict?"

"That was how it began, certainly," Ken said slowly, "but it's evolved since then. As long as the Supreme Council was led by Master Siegel, that _was_ the real conflict; but as soon as Patrick came into power, things began to change. ZAFT has become the enemy... and I won't be serving the Earth Forces much longer, either."

The ZAFT pilot blinked. "You're not?"

"No." The ace suddenly turned to face him. "You see, the Earth Forces are merely a front; the 'Council' that leads them is nothing more than a facade. The real leader... is Muruta Azrael. In truth, Blue Cosmos controls the Earth Forces now."

Dearka jerked. "Are you _serious?"_

"Unfortunately, yes. And that's why... I have to stop this war." Abruptly, Ken spun on his heel. "Everything depends on what happens in the next few weeks," he said, conviction in his voice. "Of that, I'm certain. The _Archangel_ will become the centerpiece... and the Broken Blade will have his revenge, his redemption... and his atonement." He started walking toward the hatch.

"Wait, Falcon!" Dearka called after him. "Why are you telling me this?"

The Grimaldi Falcon paused. "Because there's nothing you can do about it... and because I need you on my side, when the coming crisis arrives."

Then, as was his habit, he was gone in a swirl of trench coat, leaving Dearka to worry about even _more _things.

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has reached the dubious safety of Alaska, and tension begins to build among her crew, as two of her members attempt to kill a prisoner. Meanwhile, the Gray Demons' conspiracy continues to progress… 

Yeah, I know; late chapter. Well, I didn't have much inspiration for a few days. Next update _should_ be a little faster.

In the meantime, let me know how _this_ chapter was. -Solid Shark


	26. Chapter 26: Prelude to Battle

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Ken's Quarters, May 4th, C.E. 71

* * *

It was 0600 hours; as usual, Ken had awoken long since, after another round of nightmares. Now he sat in the dim lighting of his quarters, intently reading the data on his computer terminal. He knew it all by heart, of course; this particular operation was one he'd studied time and again over the past months, especially after it became clear that ZAFT was mobilizing for it. 

_You're a clever bastard, Patrick,_ he admitted in the privacy of his own mind. _Once you had the balance of forces required, you went right for the plan that would cut off the beast's head... and you even recognized that, for all my knowledge of the plan, there's little I can do to stop Spit Break. You're even counting on destroying _Archangel _here..._ The ace smiled to himself, grimly. _But you reckoned without Preybird._

The powerful machine was currently in the _Archangel_'s hangar, cloaked by Mirage Colloid, while its nuclear reactor put out only enough energy to maintain the stealth field; yet the reactor could go from standby to full combat output very quickly, now that it was active in the first place. That could prove very valuable, when the coming battle occurred.

_Then we escape from Alaska, and, hopefully, make our way to Orb..._ Ken frowned, and sighed. _And see what I can do to help my partner..._ He knew full well how deeply Cagalli had been hurt by Kira's death, and wished he'd been able to do something for her when last they'd met. Unfortunately, he'd been in a hurry, needing to get back to the _Archangel_ before she crossed the Tropic of Cancer; that was one reason he'd left Leanne with Orb, in the hopes that his subordinate -what with her newfound friendship with the princess- could do for Cagalli what he could not.

Kira Yamato... If Ken was the brains behind the _Archangel,_ the calculating mind, then Kira had certainly been the vessel's heart. Everyone had liked him, even Natarle Badgiruel... and none more than their onetime shipmate, Cagalli. His death had ripped the heart and soul out of the mighty ship's crew; they were only now beginning to recover from that blow.

_If he'd been a true soldier,_ Ken mused, _we might've been able to move on much sooner; soldiers have no choice but to learn to deal with the deaths of their fellows... but Kira was more than that, to all of us. He brought something to the ship... an innocence, perhaps. A fresh perspective, wounded yet unsullied by the ravages of war. Heliopolis, Athrun, and Flay... they all tore at him, yet he remained as he was, our White Knight, our paladin..._

Ken smiled slightly, amused at himself. To think that he, of all people, would be thinking of Kira that way... He'd thought from time to time -most of the time, if truth be told- that Kira was naive, not understanding what war required. The ace suspected that his protégé had never quite understood why the elaborate battle plans such as Operation Aquila, or the long, meticulously-prepared campaigns like the Shiva Option were necessary.

_No, his idealism prevented him from understanding that you can't end the war in one swift stroke. Unless you have a doomsday weapon -usually counterproductive, unless you don't mind rendering the enemy's territory uninhabitable- you have to whittle away at them, take them a piece at a time, until they're weak enough to bring them to heel in one final, decisive battle..._

He'd thought, before the battle in the Marshall Islands, that he and Kira were going to have an argument about that eventually; most likely after the new Shiva Option began to come together. Ken knew Kira would have a hard time accepting it... but he also thought -hoped- that the younger, idealistic pilot would, in the end, accept the fact that, however distasteful the body count might be, ZAFT and the Earth Forces _had_ to be weakened before the war could end.

Ken firmly believed that negotiation was, at this point, impossible. Unless ZAFT finally gained the upper hand -without a situation that would justify resorting to GENESIS- the Earth Alliance would never come to the negotiating table, at least not in good faith; and the Earth Alliance would never accept negotiations at all, if _they_ won. He didn't think Murrue or the other officers realized it, but he knew full well that those truly in control of the Alliance desired nothing more and nothing less than the total extermination of all Coordinators.

_This war has to end... and as it stands now, there are three ways that can happen. The Earth Forces somehow regain nuclear capability -via stolen NJC plans, no doubt- and blast the PLANTs into oblivion. Patrick deals enough of a blow to the Earth Forces to gain breathing space, but still manages to construe them as a terrifying threat, and scorches all life off the planet._

_Or, if we're very, very lucky, all the elements come together, and Orb, True ZAFT, and the _Archangel _join forces, gather their strength, and launch _our _Shiva Option, with the eventual result of forcing both sides to the negotiating table... and gaining independence for the PLANTs at last._

Even now, every action he took -or almost every action, at least- was for the ultimate goal of securing victory for the PLANTs. That was the goal that had sustained the Grimaldi Falcon in the dark days after Endymion, and the time he spent on Heliopolis; he would not abandon it now.

Though meeting Dearka face-to-face once again, for the first time in months, had helped advance the process that had begun when Ken joined the _Archangel_'s crew; his detachment was beginning to fray... and the memory of someone they'd both been close to, once upon a time, tore at it even more...

Ironic, when it was the loss of that same young woman that had set him on this path in the first place.

Ken clenched his jaw as memories flooded into his mind, memories he'd kept locked up for over a year. The mental techniques of Der Schreckick Eins had allowed him to seal them away, permitting him to maintain the detachment that he'd needed to devise the third Shiva Option, to continue fighting after the loss of Junius Seven... but they were not up to the task of holding that door closed after speaking with Dearka about the subject again... especially when his gunner resembled her so much.

Steeling himself, the ace went to his pack, and pulled out the photo he'd not yet had time to set in Preybird's cockpit. He himself stood within that frame... next to a young blonde in a flightsuit of gold and blue. Her malachite green eyes seemed to stare out into his own...

The chime sounded at the hatch. "Falcon?" Murrue called. "You there?"

Quickly resuming his usual mask of imperturbability, Ken turned to the hatch. "It's open," he said, letting it slide aside. "Something up, Murrue?"

Stepping into the ace's quarters, Murrue took a moment to examine his expression before she spoke. He seemed as unemotional as usual... and yet there was something in his visible eye, something she hadn't seen before... "Falcon... are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Ken answered calmly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure? If you need to talk to anyone..."

"I don't want to discuss it," he said, a slight edge creeping into his voice. "I already told Dearka the subject was closed; I'm not about to reopen it with anyone else."

Murrue blinked, taken aback by his unexpected vehemence. _What's with him? I guess there _is _something wrong... and that ZAFT pilot knows what it is. But what?_ It didn't take her long to decide to drop the subject; she noticed that, while Ken wasn't wearing his trench coat, his _sword_ was within easy reach, and she wasn't sure if it would be wise to test his temper on this matter.

"Sorry," she said after a moment. "Anyway, I... What happened to your shoulder?" she said, interrupting herself. "You look like you've been..."

"Shot, yes," Ken acknowledged, sounding normal again as he lightly touched the bandages covering his left shoulder. "There was a slight misunderstanding in the Infirmary involving a prisoner, firearms, and cutlery; remind me to tell the crew not to leave sharp objects and handguns lying around where some grief-stricken or whacked-out teenage girl can find them."

Murrue frowned. "Flay and Miriallia, right? I assume their... actions were the reason for Elsman's swift removal to the brig?"

"That's right; and frankly, if I didn't know Flay was unstable at the moment -or if she'd succeeded in killing Dearka- I might've taken... drastic measures myself."

She glanced at the sword that hung at his side, and winced; she could guess what he meant. _And I suppose I can't blame him. Having someone try to kill his best friend, even if he _is _a prisoner of war... Knowing Falcon, I'm not surprised at all..._

"Are you all right?" she asked after a moment.

Ken nodded. "I'm fine; hardly the first time I've been shot since coming aboard. Now, I believe you were about to tell me something when you noticed my... injury?"

"Um, yes," Murrue affirmed, bringing her mind back to the subject that had brought her here in the first place. "Yes, Captain Sutherland has instructed us to appear for a Board of Inquiry, in about an hour. He specifically requested _your_ presence, as a matter of fact."

The ace nodded to himself. "Did he, now..." _The bastard is Blue Cosmos to the core; not that I expect Murrue to believe that quite yet..._ "Well, then, I suppose I'd better get ready." He reached for his uniform tunic, and stiffly pulled it on over his shoulder wound. "If you don't mind," he began, fastening the tunic, "I'd rather you not mention this particular incident to the good Captain. Under the circumstances -my being a ZAFT ace, and whatnot- I feel it would be unwise for me to display any weakness today. The questioning will be rough, I'm sure; so I need to maintain a strong front. Any chinks in my armor, anything he can possibly use against me, he will."

She nodded. "I know what you mean. I don't know Sutherland, but I'll grant anyone among the top brass -at least, to hear Admiral Halberton talk- will be disinclined to believe that you're actually helping us. And," she admitted unwillingly, "there will probably be a certain amount of anti-Coordinator prejudice involved. This _is_ Headquarters, after all, and they aren't paid to be nice to Coordinators... unfortunately."

The slightest trace of a smile appeared on Ken's face. "Well, then," he murmured, "it's a good thing that _I'm_ not paid to be nice to fathead desk jockeys."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Clyne Residence

* * *

Kira leaned against the railing overlooking the PLANT's huge lake, pensive. He'd been here for over two weeks now, recuperating at the Clyne Residence, and now his wounds were essentially gone. But that wasn't much of a load off his mind... for now he had to make a choice. 

_I've shed so much blood in this war,_ he thought sadly. _Miguel Aiman, the Desert Tiger... almost Nicol... and who knows how many others. I don't want to go back into that... but I should atone for what I've done... shouldn't I...? After everything that's happened..._

Only now did the young Coordinator begin to appreciate what had driven Ken DiFalco onto his single-minded path of atonement. He still had no idea what had been the catalyst, what specific act had driven him over the edge, but Kira now understood the power guilt could have over a man. Guilt for failing to save Flay's father had driven him to kill, over and over... and now guilt for those deaths had presented him with the choice between staying out of the rest of the war, and thus avoiding more bloodshed... or plunging back into it, to halt the war before more lives could be lost.

_What am I supposed to do?_ Kira wondered. _Do I stay here, away from the conflict, and let those like Commander Cooper and Ken shoulder the burden? Or do I return to battle, fighting for peace...? What _can _I do, all by myself? Is it even possible for me to change anything on my own?_

He didn't know the answer to that. Ken, to be sure, had taken it upon himself to change the course of the entire conflict... but he had three fanatically loyal subordinates, with a steadily-growing support structure behind them. _He_ was just Kira Yamato, a confused young man who just happened to be good in the cockpit.

Unknown to him, Kira was being observed by two others, one with worry and sympathy, the other with sympathy and more than a little speculation...

_You're a great pilot, kid,_ Sparky thought to himself. _And you've got a good heart... you just haven't yet learned enough about the real world to make a decision. And it's one only _you _can make; nobody else can see into your heart and tell you the right thing to do..._

He knew that, as did Tom, Leanne, and Shiho. They'd all looked inward, wondering if they truly wanted to follow their Commander's seemingly mad scheme to stand against the might of ZAFT all by themselves. In the end, they'd all made the same choice... but they were professional soldiers, which Kira Yamato was not. The choice would be even harder for him...

The big Demon heard footsteps behind him. "So, how's the kid doing?" Shiho Hahnenfuss asked quietly. "He looks healthy enough..."

Sparky nodded. "He is. It's not his body that's the problem, but his mind. He's got a choice to make... and he's not sure what the right choice _is_."

"Hm." Shiho glanced over at the pink-haired girl who was making her way over to the troubled youth. "Maybe Miss Lacus can help him figure it out..."

He shrugged. "Beats me. Personally, I wish Lord Uzumi's daughter were here; from what the Boss says, she always had a way of getting the kid out a funk. But, as it is... yeah, Miss Lacus is probably the right -and only- person for the job."

"That's what I thought. Which reminds me..." She frowned. "Just how much does the Clyne family know about your activities, anyway, Sparky? Doesn't look to me like they've been driven into direct opposition of Chairman Zala's policies yet, so just how freely do you talk around here?"

"Not very," Sparky admitted. "Lacus at least knows that we've got a ship under our direct command -and she may've heard the term 'True ZAFT'- but I don't think she or her father realize that we're operating completely outside the normal ZAFT command structure. They _certainly_ don't know that we've built a machine specifically intended to wipe the floor with the main force, or that we have two new warships under construction for the purpose of defying Patrick."

Shiho nodded slowly. "So it isn't time yet to go overt."

"No... but we'll be taking direct action very soon, I think..."

Outside, Lacus had finally reached Kira's side. "You look sad, Kira," she remarked quietly. "Are you all right?"

He stared out at the water. "I'm... just thinking," he said slowly. "About everything I've done so far... about the things I might have to do again..."

"You've only done what you had to do," she told him gently. "None of this is your fault, you know; you were only protecting those close to you."

"I know, but... it even forced me to fight against Athrun. He's my best friend; how could I do that...?"

"Fate put you on two different sides of this conflict," Lacus said slowly. "There was nothing else either of you could've done. But now... there's no reason for you two to fight anymore."

Kira sighed. "Maybe _now_ there isn't... but if I _do_ go back to the battlefield, I may have to face him again. I don't know... if I can bring myself to fight him again.."

She touched his shoulder. "That's not something you should be worrying about right now, Kira. You're here, well away from the war; now you can rest, for as long as you like."

"Maybe so... but still, I can't help but think that this isn't over..." He met her eyes. "If I have the power to make a difference, I should put it to good use, shouldn't I?"

Lacus started to answer, then stopped, making herself think about it. _Maybe... he has a point,_ she thought, beginning to understand him -and why he fought- better than she ever had before. _We should _all _be doing our parts, shouldn't we? Kira's been out there, fighting for what he believes in... and what have _we _been doing? My father and I, we've been trying to use words to overcome Chairman Zala's intentions... yet sometimes words aren't enough. Zala himself has said that if you must fight to protect something, then you have no choice but to fight... and while we have been, we haven't been using every resource we have._

That was something that merited much thought; but for now, she only had a few words for Kira. "That's something you can only decide for yourself, Kira," Lacus told him. "If you believe that you have the power to make a difference, and if you have the will..."

Kira nodded thoughtfully. "I guess you're right... but you're also right that I shouldn't worry about it right now." He frowned, turning inward. "Though... I really should return to Earth soon, even if I don't go into battle again. There's... there's someone waiting for me, in Orb. I promised her I'd come back, so..."

Lacus smiled in understanding. "Then we'd better make sure you _can_ return, shouldn't we? And that means, Kira, that you can't let yourself stand out here and waste away. Come on; it's about time for lunch."

As the "Pink Princess" led the young man back indoors, Sparky nodded to himself, and turned to Shiho. "He'll do," he said simply.

She leaned against the wall. "You really think he'll want to go back into that chaos down there, Sparky? You heard the story; he's gone through a living hell down there."

The big Demon shrugged. "He's tough, Shiho; if he wasn't, he never would've made it this far. No, his will is strong... and his conscience will never permit him to leave all the fighting to others."

"Hmph. Well, that reminds me why I came here in the first place: I have news."

He looked at her sharply. "What kind of news?" he demanded.

Shiho smiled slightly. "Just this: Tom hacked Council computers this morning, and he's learned that Operation Spit Break is scheduled to be launched tomorrow."

Sparky cursed. "That's not as much time as I'd counted on. Well, Eileen Canaver should be getting the information sometime tomorrow, too, which means Master Siegel will be getting it shortly... which should set off the chain of events we're hoping for." He looked over at the door through which Kira and Lacus had vanished. "I just hope the kid is as ready as I think he is... because he'll be right back in that chaos soon enough." He cursed again. "And not even any way to warn the Boss..."

* * *

JOSHUA Base, Conference Room

* * *

Virtually everyone from the _Archangel,_ save a skeleton crew, filed into the chamber at precisely 0700 hours. All wore proper uniform, even Murdoch (whom Ken had _never_ seen in formal uniform before), and all wore virtually identical blank expressions. 

_So,_ Ken thought, adjusting his uncomfortable, hated uniform. _We're here; now where's the Board? If they're just going to make us sit here and wait, I'll be of a mind to hack the computers, lock all the doors, and let them rot until Spit Break arrives. Of course, I'm inclined to do that anyway..._

Fortunately, the door at the other end of the room opened before the ace's temper could snap, and the officers of the Board entered, led by a man Ken presumed to be the captain Murrue had spoken of earlier. _If that _is _him, though, I can't say I'm impressed..._

"This Board of Inquiry shall now commence," the man intoned. "I'm Captain William Sutherland; and you, I presume, are the officers of the _Archangel,_ assigned to the Eighth Fleet."

Murrue nodded. "Yes, Captain. I'm Lieutenant Commander Murrue Ramius, and these are Lieutenant Commander Mu La Flaga, Lieutenant Commander Sophia DiFalco, Lieutenant Natarle Badgiruel, and Commander Ken DiFalco, all of the _Archangel."_

Sutherland nodded. "Very good. Now, Commander, let me begin by congratulating you on making it this far, through so much danger." His voice hardened perceptibly. "How much of that danger could have been avoided, we'll determine in a moment. First, however, I'd like you to summarize the _Archangel_'s actions, from the attack on Heliopolis up to now."

"Yes, sir." She cleared her throat. "To begin, the _Archangel_'s journey began on January 25th, when ZAFT's Le Creuset team attacked Heliopolis, and succeeded in capturing four of the six prototype mobile suits under construction there..."

Murrue went on for several minutes, with occasional interjections by her officers, and enumerated the ship's long journey. The attack on and eventual collapse of Heliopolis, the silent run to Artemis, the brief capture and subsequent escape, the journey to the Eighth Fleet... the battle that led to the Fleet's destruction... and the various actions on Earth itself.

She deliberately glossed over several matters, such as their alliance with the Desert Dawn resistance fighters... and especially their actions in Orb. Even Natarle had, in the end, agreed that it might be unwise to enumerate exactly what had gone on there. The people at Headquarters might not be entirely sanguine about their aiding Orb in Morgenroete's Astray program.

Finally, after describing the battle wherein the Strike, Raptor, and captured CGUE had been lost, she was finished. "...and that, Captain, is about all there is to tell. We left the Marshall Islands, and made it here to Alaska without further incident."

Sutherland nodded, as though to himself. "And you see nothing that you might have done better, Commander Ramius?"

Murrue shrugged. "Hindsight is, of course, twenty-twenty, Captain. There are probably a number of things we might've done better. However, based on what we knew at the time, I see nothing I would've done differently; we worked with the limited options we had, sir."

"I disagree," the Captain declared. "You made mistakes from the very first day, Commander... mistakes you should've known to avoid from the start."

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. "Excuse me, Captain? Would you care to explain?"

Sutherland snorted. "Come now, Commander, surely it's obvious. You allowed a child -a Coordinator, no less!- to pilot the Strike, when you knew full well that Coordinators were -and remain- our enemies."

Murrue frowned. "With all due respect, Captain Sutherland, I don't see that we had much of a choice. With the operating system we had, a Natural stood little chance of even moving properly, let alone fighting, in the Strike. Accepting Kira Yamato's aid was really our only option."

"Hmph. Well, Commander, while I agree you made the right choice when you detained those civilians, I must say that it was still a rash and very ill-considered move to put a Coordinator in that machine's cockpit. With time, we could've created an operating system that even a Natural could use properly."

She shook her head. "Sir, we didn't _have_ time-"

"And," Sutherland went on, cutting her off, "not content with that, you accepted the services of another Coordinator, this one a decorated ZAFT ace! Commander, you may -_may-_ be able to justify Kira Yamato's presence in the Strike, but accepting on your own authority the assistance of the Grimaldi Falcon was absolutely unjustifiable!"

Ken's eye flashed, as did Mu's; and not just at the slander of his own name. The way this... this _slug_ was talking about Kira, he was clearly implying that every calamity that had befallen the _Archangel_ was his fault.

And questioning the Grimaldi Falcon's integrity was never a wise move.

_All right,_ Ken thought, _you want to play hardball, do you? Fine; I'm game. See if you can win the war of words with _me, _supercilious bastard._

These thoughts flashed through his mind in less than a second, and then he stood up, an instant before Mu did. "All right, Captain Sutherland," the ace said evenly. "You don't like Coordinators, and you think that everything that the _Archangel_ went through was the fault of Kira and me." His eye narrowed. "I don't agree, but I can accept that; however, if you're going to be tossing such accusations around, I'd prefer you not speak as though I'm not even in the room."

Sutherland fixed his gaze upon the Coordinator, a look of unwilling respect on his face. "Very well, Commander DiFalco," he said slowly. "You've made your point." A smile slowly grew... a look the ace didn't like at all. "Yes, you've made your point... so, would you care to say anything in your own defense?"

Ken nodded slowly. "Indeed, Captain. First, let me say that, while _you_ may think accepting my aid was unjustifiable, Lewis Halberton thought differently, and personally approved the _Archangel_'s actions at Heliopolis, but in regards to myself, and the late Kira Yamato."

The captain snorted. "I don't recall hearing that a single rear admiral directs policy for the entire Earth Alliance," he said coolly.

The ace's response cut to the bone, and wiped the man's smug expression away. "Neither does a mere _captain,"_ he pointed out, voice like a keen blade. "Unless the Earth Forces' rank structure is nothing like what I've heard, a rear admiral _does_ outrank a captain, does he not?"

"That may be," Sutherland acknowledged through gritted teeth, "but that does not change the fact that he should've cleared the decision through Headquarters before unilaterally acting on his own."

_Last I checked, "unilaterally acting alone" was redundant, but I suppose a Blue Cosmos bigot like you can't be expected to remember the finer points of the English language._

_After all, your native tongue is Orkish._

"If you'll remember, Captain Sutherland," Ken riposted, "the Eighth Fleet was then in orbit, out of radio range of Headquarters. Sometimes decisions have to be made without first consulting higher authority, and this was one of them. Lewis made the choice he thought was best."

"Halberton always did have too much sympathy for your kind," Sutherland mused. "In any case, Commander, I might point out that the reason he couldn't contact Headquarters was the very one your people were responsible for: the Neutron jammers you scattered across Earth, causing disruption of communications, and, worse, widespread famine-"

"You left us no choice," the ace said coldly. "Using a nuclear weapon on a farming colony was utterly inexcusable, and violated your _own_ rules of war."

Sutherland started to snap back angrily, before realizing DiFalco was leading him into a trap. _He's trying to get me to admit Blue Cosmos involvement in the upper levels of the Alliance,_ he thought, grudging respect welling up. _If he does that, he can redirect the entire course of this inquiry... and we don't dare go public yet..._

His only option was to change the subject. "Back to the matter at hand, Commander. You can't deny that the Eighth Fleet was utterly destroyed, while you and Yamato were in control of the Strike and Raptor."

"Irrelevant," Ken shot back. "We didn't even launch until late in the battle; and I strongly argued against the delay. If you'll check the records, you'll find that I had to independently order the launch myself, when it became clear Admiral Halberton had misjudged the situation."

Murrue's eyes widened at the implied criticism of her mentor, but then she realized that if anyone had a right to make such judgments, it was him...

And she, along with the other members of the _Archangel_'s crew present in the room, realized that, in some intangible way, Ken had just taken control of the Inquiry. Now it was _Sutherland_ who was on the defensive... and the ace seemed determined to keep him there.

The captain tried again. "What of the collapse of Heliopolis?" he demanded. "According to the battle records, it was _your_ failure to completely destroy a missile-armed GINN that led to the disaster, in the end; when you left part of it intact, you triggered the launch of the weapons."

"I don't deny it," Ken replied calmly. "However, such mistakes are an unavoidable part of war; and it was Rau Le Creuset's choice to use heavy weaponry there, not mine." His eye narrowed dangerously. "And don't forget that it was the Earth Alliance's decision to construct mobile suits at a neutral space colony that led to the attack in the first place. Had you not involved Orb, none of this would've happened."

Point and counterpoint. Thrust and riposte. Sutherland had begun the proceedings with complete confidence, expecting to be able to take apart the reputations of the Coordinators that had served aboard the _Archangel,_ both living and dead, without any repercussions.

Unfortunately, he'd left _himself_ open to attack, and now ZAFT's most brilliant strategist and tactician ruthlessly destroyed his arguments.

Sutherland tried a new tack. "What of the destruction of the advance force, sent ahead of the Eighth Fleet? You and that other Coordinator were both there, yet Captain Koopman, Vice Minister Allster, and the entire crews of the _Montgomery,_ _Bernard, _and _Law_ all died anyway."

"We were badly outnumbered in that battle," Ken said evenly. "The Strike was engaged in single combat with the Aegis, while I attempted to fight off a number of GINNs and a prototype CGUE simultaneously. Matters were complicated by the fact that the CGUE in question was piloted by a man of unusual skill, the one some call Huckebein the Raven. Under the circumstances, no better could've been expected. It's a miracle the _Archangel_ herself survived."

The captain seethed inwardly. _That blasted Coordinator is too good at words games..._ "All right, then," he conceded irritably. "I should, however, point out that not long before your arrival at Alaska, you managed to lose not just your own former CGUE, but also both the Strike _and_ the Raptor. Can you give me _any_ justification for _that_, Commander?"

Murrue herself wondered how the young pilot would answer, but she had the feeling he'd anticipated the question, and already had an answer prepared for it. _He has an answer for everything, it seems, _she thought fondly. _If anyone can make Headquarters eat their own words, it's him._

Ken's expression didn't change, but he had the air of a man about to blow an argument out of the water in a most satisfactory manner. "The losses suffered during the battle in the Marshall Islands were regrettable," he acknowledged. "They were also not the fault of the crew at large. The CGUE -which, I might mention, was _not_ Earth Alliance property- was lost as a result of a brash young man attempting to pilot a machine he'd never flown even in a simulator. The decision Crewman Koenig made was one that I disagreed with, but I had no opportunity to prevent it; at that moment, I was engaged in combat with the Buster. Strike was destroyed because Ensign Yamato found himself in combat with a pilot whose skill very nearly equaled his own, and who was willing to die to avenge the death of his friend, in a previous battle. I was unable to intervene, for attempting to get in the middle of such an engagement would very likely have been suicide; the fact that Ensign Yamato fought the Aegis to a standstill, and left its pilot with no other option _but_ to self-destruct, is a testament to his skill as a pilot."

Sutherland's eyes narrowed. "Hmph. And the Raptor, Commander? Can you explain _that_ loss?"

"Certainly. The machine simply couldn't keep up with my flying ability, and so tore itself to pieces." Ken's lip curled in the barest trace of a sneer. "It's not _my_ fault that your Earth Forces machines aren't capable enough for someone with my skill."

Sophia might've felt inclined to dispute the slur against her creation, but she decided against it; seeing the interesting shade of purple Sutherland's face turned was compensation enough.

That final sentence appeared to have snapped something inside the Earth Forces captain. "It's _your_ existence that has thrown this world into chaos," he said tightly. "Without you Coordinators, this war would never have occurred in the first place!"

Murrue came to her feet. "Captain Sutherland, I must protest! That is uncalled for!"

Ken raised a hand. "Calmly, Murrue," he murmured, almost inaudibly. "Calmly. He's left himself open with that one..." He raised his voice. "You brought it on yourselves, Captain. You wish Coordinators didn't exist? Well, don't blame us; we didn't just evolve, you know. It was Naturals that created us in the first place. It was a Natural who created George Glenn; it was a Natural who created me." His voice hardened. "And it was the sponsor nations -Naturals- who placed the unreasonable demands upon the PLANTs, and framed us for the bombing at Copernicus last year. And need I remind you that it was _you_ who declared war on _us?"_

Sutherland's fists clenched under the table. He had a number of things that he _wanted_ to say to this punk, but most of them would require conceding several of his points. So instead, he attempted to steer the discussion back to the original subject. "If we're through trading insults, Commander," he said tightly, "I believe it's time we brought these proceedings to a close."

Ken nodded amiably, and sat back down. "And what, may I ask, is the finding of this Inquiry?"

"This Board," the captain said, anger beginning to drain from his voice and expression, "finds that the _Archangel_ is not responsible for the various calamities that befell her during the journey here. We believe that some decisions were not as wise as they might have been, but, in the end, you succeeded in arriving at Alaska, bringing with you the combat data from the Strike and Raptor; data which will prove invaluable to the war effort." He nodded at the assembled crew. "This Board is adjourned."

Murrue caught the ace's eye, and smiled gratefully; she suspected the inquiry would have been even less pleasant had he not taken matters into his own hands.

But one question remained: why on earth did he look so _pleased_ with himself? She'd never seen him look so amused in the whole time he'd been with the _Archangel..._

As the crew began to stand, Sutherland spoke again. "One more thing, Commander Ramius," he began. "There are a few changes that will be made in assignments. Lieutenant Commander La Flaga, Lieutenant Junior Grade Badgiruel, Commander DiFalco, and Crewman Allster will be transferred within the week."

Murrue froze. _What?_ "Sir?"

The captain allowed himself a slight, satisfied smile. "Commander DiFalco and Lieutenant Badgiruel will doubtless prove invaluable elsewhere, Commander, with their demonstrated tactical skills; and Commander La Flaga has talents of his own."

"I see," she said quietly. _Not now,_ she thought resentfully. _We've come so far; why break us up now? This is a good, solid crew... and I don't want to lose any of them..._ She cleared her throat. "I... can understand why they would be transferred, sir; but what about Crewman Allster? Why would she...?"

"She's an Allster, Commander," Sutherland told her. "That name is still respected; people will be glad to hear her words. One doesn't have to be a fighter to be useful, Commander."

Murrue nodded slowly. "I see, Captain."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor

* * *

No one said another word until they were back aboard the _Archangel..._ safely away from interested ears. "This is unbelievable!" Natarle exploded. "First they try to pin the blame for everything we went through on just two members of the crew, and now they want to transfer us out?" 

The next sound was perhaps the most startling thing Murrue had ever heard: Ken DiFalco, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out laughing.

She and the other officers stared at him as though he'd gone mad. Indeed, they were afraid he might have, because such an outburst was so out of character as to be unbelievable. "Uh, Falcon..." Murrue began carefully, "are you... all right?"

Still chuckling to himself, Ken nodded. "Oh, I'm fine, Murrue, perfectly fine. I'm just pleased with myself, that's all."

"Pleased with yourself about _what?"_ Natarle demanded. "Just what is so funny, Commander?"

He smiled; an expression that somehow made him look even more like a bird of prey than usual. "Just this: I'm going to get the last laugh. You don't like Sutherland's attitude? Don't worry about it; he won't have much longer to be a self-satisfied bastard."

Mu cleared his throat. "Uh... would you care to explain that, little brother?"

"It's quite simple, Mu," Ken said, satisfaction in his voice and face. "You've heard that there's an upcoming ZAFT operation, right?"

"We all have," Murrue acknowledged, puzzled. "Supposed to be a massive attack against Panama. But what does that have to do with...?"

"It's called Operation Spit Break," he informed her. "And Panama isn't the _real_ objective. It never was. No, Spit Break's objective is JOSHUA Base... which means that, probably within days, the largest force ZAFT has ever assembled will be coming right here."

Natarle's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"

Ken's smile became, incongruously, a genuine grin. "Well, I certainly _ought_ to know it. After all... it was all my idea in the first place."

Pieces fell into place in Murrue's mind. _Of course... that's why he's been so tense lately,_ she realized. _He knew that it was coming... but now, he's actually looking forward to it..._

"It's a pity you won't be here to see it," she said finally. "But I suppose you'll be better off this way; out of the line of fire."

Ken raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall saying that I intended to leave."

She blinked. "But... your transfer..."

"I thought you knew, Murrue: I don't particularly care what Sutherland and his ilk _want_ me to do. I stayed with the ship for a purpose... and I'm not going to leave it now." He leaned against the bulkhead. "And it so happens that I can probably alter the orders within the computers to keep someone else aboard, as well. In the confusion, I don't think anyone will notice, especially if I seem to be complying with it myself. But I can only do it for one; any more than that might well be noticed."

Mu came to a quick decision. "I suggest you keep Lieutenant Badgiruel here," he said slowly. "If need be, I can make my own arrangements; and if not, well... it's not as if a single Skygrasper pilot would make much of a difference here, anyway."

The ace looked over at Natarle. "Well, Lieutenant? You willing to go against the Book, just this once?"

She started to speak, then closed her mouth and made herself consider it. "Yes," she said at last. "I think so. Something... doesn't seem right here. I'd better stick around." She looked over at him. "But... aren't you going to warn Headquarters that an attack is imminent?"

Ken shook his head. "No, Lieutenant, I'm not. There's more at stake here than you know; and besides, I don't think they'd believe me."

Natarle nodded unhappily. "You're probably right."

"But _we_ believe you," Murrue put in. "So at least _we'll_ be ready." She still didn't like the notion of losing Mu and Flay, but at least _this_ was a problem she could _do_ something about. "Do you know when the attack is supposed to begin?"

He shrugged. "Soon, that's all I know. Sparky's messages -back when I could still receive them- said that the Supreme Council had approved Spit Break, but he wasn't able to get a timetable. Still, I'd say it'll be only a few days from now, if that."

She nodded. "Then we'd better get ready."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Clyne Residence, May 5th, C.E. 71

* * *

It was to be one of the most momentous days in the entire Earth/ZAFT War... and at this moment, Kira Yamato had no idea of the role he was about to play in it. 

Instead, he was sitting in the gazebo, drinking tea with Lacus and the Reverend Malchio. They were waiting for Siegel Clyne to arrive; they'd begun making arrangements for Kira to return to Earth, but none of them were sure if it was even possible at this time... what with the preparations for ZAFT's next major operation.

Sparky, in his usual position near the door, wore an expression that bordered on grim; had his self-control not been as formidable as it was, it _would_ have been grim. _There's no way they'll let any flights take off for Earth,_ he thought. _Not with Spit Break being launched today. But... will it lead to the scenario we need, or will we have to do the dirty work ourselves, and hope for the best?_

Lacus wasn't paying any attention at all to her bodyguard. Instead, she was watching Kira, who was sipping his tea with the abstracted air of someone with a great deal on his mind. "Are you all right, Kira?" she asked. "You seem pensive."

He nodded absently. "I'm fine, Lacus. I'm just... wondering what it is I'm doing here."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, where would you like to be, if you had the option? Would you rather be on Earth right now?"

Kira shrugged. "I... don't really know. I just... feel like I should be somewhere; but I don't know where..."

"You will know, when the time comes," Malchio predicted. "When the time is right, you'll know what you should be doing, and that will tell you where you should be going. For that is what it means to be a bearer of the Seed."

Kira didn't know about that... but he found the blind monk's words reassuring nonetheless. _Kinda sounds like how Ken always talks,_ he thought. _Feels like... home..._

Wait. Home? Was the _Archangel..._ home? Was that why he felt out of place here? Because his place, his home was on the _Archangel?_

_Maybe so... Maybe I _do _need to return..._

The door leading into the residence proper slid aside, and Siegel Clyne stepped in. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "But right now, they aren't letting any flights for Earth lift off; not even private shuttles, like the Reverend's."

"I'm not surprised," Sparky put in. "With the preparations going on right now..."

He was interrupted by a sound from the screen that suddenly appeared on the gazebo's wall. _"A call for Master Siegel, from Ms. Eileen Canaver,"_ the operator said. _"Shall I put it through?"_

Siegel nodded. "Yes, please."

The face of Eileen Canaver, Siegel Clyne's closest ally on the Supreme Council, appeared. _"I have bad news, Clyne,"_ she said grimly. _"Zala appears to have lied to us all... again."_

Siegel's expression tightened, and Kira felt the beginnings of dread in his gut. "How so?" the politician asked. "What has he done now?"

_"Panama's not Operation Spit Break's target,"_ Canaver answered. _"It's JOSHUA Alaska."_

Kira's teacup fell from his hand, and shattered. _No... the _Archangel...

"What's wrong, Kira?" Lacus asked, hurrying to his side. "What's the matter?"

He couldn't answer; he could only listen as Canaver continued. _"The Council didn't approve any of this. He's going for a strike to decapitate the Earth Alliance in a single blow."_

"What could've led to this?" Siegel demanded. "Has he lost his mind?"

_"Possibly,"_ she said dryly. _"However, I think that it's his fondness for the direct approach... and the rumors that the Grimaldi Falcon is at Alaska may have something to do with it, as well. You know as well as I that Zala's been obsessed with neutralizing Commander DiFalco for months now."_

Kira stared at nothing... and in his heart, a long-delayed decision was made.

He had to go back.

* * *

_"Kira, you have the power to make a difference, don't you? So why not put it to good use?"_

_"Yes, what he does is something we all wish no one had to do. But there are few purposes more noble than the defense of others. It's a sad thing that a machine such as these comes alive only on the field of battle, where blood is shed, but it is also right. To be a protector is a noble calling, Kira."_

Kira Yamato remembered the words of those who had been like mentors to him, on the _Archangel._ At the time, he hadn't truly understood; but now, now that he'd fought in a number of battles himself...

The gazebo was now deserted except for himself, and he had time to muse on what had brought him this far... and where he'd go from here. Yet there wasn't anything to think about anymore; not really. The choice was made. All that remained now was determining how to carry out his decision...

The small building's door slid aside, and Lacus stepped in. "Kira...?" she called softly. "Are you all right?"

Kira turned to face her, and she was startled to see tears in his eyes, as though he'd just made a momentous, irrevocable decision... _But what?_ Lacus wondered.

"It's time I left here," he told her simply. "I... I can't stay here any longer."

Somehow she wasn't surprised; this was something she'd seen coming ever since he started acting restless... ever since he mentioned there was someone waiting for him. "I see. But... where were you thinking of going?"

"I have to return to Earth. I..." Kira paused, gathering his thoughts. "I still have things I need to do."

"But why?" Lacus asked. "Even if you go, what can you do? You're all alone..."

"No, I don't think so," he said slowly. "But even if I am... Well, think about it. If everyone decided not to act, because they thought it wouldn't do any good, then _nothing_ would be done. Then nothing would change... and nothing would end. I can't let it go on like this..."

Lacus heard his words, and thought about them. _There's only so much one young man can do... That's why we've been trying to work from within to end this war. But... When that fails, what is left but to take direct action? Even if it's but a small ripple, one day it may grow into a large wave... and it will swallow even him..._

"I understand, Kira," she said at last, and smiled. "Maybe... we can help you. But... who will you be fighting? The Earth Forces, or ZAFT?"

"I suspect both," another voice rumbled. "Am I right, kid?"

Kira raised an eyebrow at Sparky's entrance, but nodded. "I think that I understand what you people are fighting for now; how you can fight against both sides like that. But..." he said slowly, "I don't want to hurt anyone, either, if I can help it."

Sparky smiled. "Not to worry, kid. We've got something you might be interested in; it's capable of mass destruction, but I think it'll fit your philosophy just fine." He smirked slightly. "Better than the Boss's machine would, anyway."

The younger Coordinator nodded. "Thanks."

The big man stuck out a hand. "Welcome to the Revolution, Kira Yamato."

* * *

PLANTs, Maius Six, ZAFT Experimental Mobile Weapons' Hangar

* * *

With Kira properly outfitted in a ZAFT top gun uniform, it was a surprisingly simple matter to gain access to the required facility. Lacus Clyne's fame, combined with Sparky Cooper's imposing figure and even more imposing reputation -and security clearance- gained them quick access to the interior. 

"This feels... strange," Kira confided, when they were out of earshot of others. "This uniform... and sneaking into a place like this..."

"We're not sneaking," Sparky told him, an easy smile on his face as they drifted down a corridor. "We're just on an inspection tour. It's amazing what you can do with the proper influence... as we Gray Demons have had cause to discover lately."

Lacus looked at her bodyguard carefully. "Commander Cooper... just how long have you been conspiring against Chairman Zala?"

"Since he was _Committee_ Chairman Zala," he told her. "When he was just the man in charge of ZAFT, the Boss set us up to counter him. If you're asking me if we've betrayed ZAFT... then I'd have to say we have. Last September, in fact, we began to work against the regular forces."

She sighed. "All this going on, and none of us ever noticed... How could we be so blind?"

"If you're referring to _our_ activities, you weren't blind... you were just unprepared for the Boss's stratagems. But if you're referring to Zala... He's a crafty bastard, that's all. Never lets anyone know his real agenda."

They were nearing a large hatch, and Kira glanced about. "So it's through, there, huh?" A sudden thought struck him. "Hey, where's Nicol? I'd have thought he'd be here..."

Sparky shook his head. "Sorry, but we couldn't risk it. He's officially dead, remember; that made it a lot easier to integrate him into the True ZAFT faction. Because of that, we don't dare let him show his face in a place like this. In fact, the only reason it's safe for _you_ is the fact that nobody in ZAFT, except for your buddy Athrun, has any idea what you look like."

"Right; I should've realized." After all, Kira knew full well just how covert the "True ZAFT" faction's activities truly were. If Preybird were any indication, they had big plans... such big plans that only a monumental amount of caution could possibly have gotten them this far in the first place.

The small group saluted another pair of ZAFT soldiers along the way, and then a hatch ahead of them slid open, granting access into a large, dimly-lit chamber. Only two of them knew what lay within... but the third would recognize it swiftly enough.

"Here it is," Lacus said, as they drifted out onto a catwalk. At a nod from the Pink Princess, Sparky touched a control, and light blossomed in the chamber.

Kira gasped. "A Gundam," he whispered.

Indeed, it bore lines remarkably similar to the Strike; but where the Strike had hard edges, this mobile suit was well-rounded, making the Strike look crude in comparison. Where the Strike had a blue torso, with red trim, this beauty had black and red, and where the Strike had the six wings of the Aile Striker, this had ten folded wings that appeared nearly identical to those of the Preybird.

It was one of the most dangerous-looking pieces of machinery Kira had ever seen, surpassed only by the menacing Preybird; and this had cleaner lines, making it look majestic instead of threatening. He felt a sense of awe, just looking at it.

Lacus smiled. "Actually, 'Gundam' isn't what it's called; but that _does_ sound more powerful, doesn't it?"

"It's the ZGMF-X10A Freedom," Sparky informed the young pilot. "Most of the technology used in its construction is based either on the original six G-weapons, or on the new devices the Boss created for the Preybird. Where Preybird is meant for one-on-one total-destruction, this is intended as long-range, multi-target interceptor." He smiled. "Perfect for your stated intentions, kid."

Kira glanced from one renegade to the other. "But why... are you letting me...?"

"Because I feel that you'll need this power," Lacus answered. "In the coming struggle, neither will alone, nor strength alone, will be enough. _That's_ why."

"And," Sparky muttered, "just possibly to make sure Patrick can't use it for his own ends. I doubt the Boss would be very happy if we let that happen."

"Thank you," Kira said sincerely. "Will you be all right, after this?"

Lacus smiled. "I'll be just fine, Kira." She glanced at her bodyguard. "Right, Commander?"

Sparky grinned. "Absolutely, Miss Lacus. Don't worry, kid; the Demons still have a few tricks up their sleeves." He jerked his head toward another hatch. "There'll be flightsuits through there; get changed, and get going. I don't know how much time we have before someone notices something's wrong."

* * *

Soon, Kira was properly attired (and he had the distinct impression that the Gray Demons had anticipated his decision and made prior arrangements, because he'd found a flightsuit his size with a pair of gray feathers on the collar in the locker room), and he drifted over to the Freedom's hatch. _Back to the battlefield again,_ he thought; but this time, the thought held no disgust for him, nor resignation. Only a sense of purpose. 

"Will this take you where you want to go?" Lacus asked him. "Will it help you when you get there?"

He nodded firmly. "It will. Thank you, Lacus. And you, Sparky."

"Anytime, kid," Sparky said waving a hand. "Just don't forget what you're fighting for, ever. Oh, and take this." He held out a package, which appeared to be the uniform Kira had worn minutes before, though something seemed different about the insignia... "I don't know if you'll need this or not, but if you do..."

Puzzled, Kira took it. "Why...?"

"Let's just say I have a feeling we'll be meeting again," the big man said enigmatically. "Which reminds me: get this disc to the Boss, will you?" He held up a data disc. "My latest report; I think he'll need it."

The young pilot tucked the disc into a pocket of his flightsuit. "I will." Then he turned to the Pink Princess. "Are you _sure_ you'll be all right, Lacus?"

She nodded. "I will be, Kira. And I, too, will be singing the great song of peace. Good luck."

"Thank you." With a final wave, he disappeared down the hatch, into the mighty Freedom. _Let's go home, to the _Archangel...

Once inside, Kira began to realize why Sparky thought the Freedom would be of so much use to him. Its cockpit was much better than that of the Strike, its weapons were more powerful than anything short of the Launcher Striker's Agni, and the powerplant...

"This is nuclear-powered," he breathed. "A Neutron-jammer canceler... this machine has more than four times the power of the Strike!"

Hands moving with increasing confidence over the controls, he brought the powerplant fully online, and then hit a familiar button, activating the Freedom's Phase-shift armor. _Neither will alone... nor strength alone..._

On his display, he saw Lacus waving to him, and Sparky raising a hand in salute, before the hatch closed; and then it was safe to open the main hatch, leading out into space.

Ignoring the sudden radio chatter calling on him to stop, Kira powered up the Freedom's thrusters, and with a responsiveness the Strike never had, the wonderful machine shot out into open space. _It's time to go home..._

* * *

Earth Orbit, Near PLANT Colonies

* * *

The sudden theft and activation of the Freedom left ZAFT's defense forces scrambling to react, and the only units in range were a small handful of GINNs... which suited Kira just fine. 

_They're no threat,_ he thought to himself, and simply blazed right past the first pair, who literally had no idea what had just gone by. Security regarding the new machines had been tight enough to prevent _any_ leakage, even with ZAFT itself.

"What _was_ that?" one of the pilots wondered.

"Whatever it was, it was fast," his partner breathed. "What could it be...?"

Up ahead, a second pair was more alert, and had their weapons ready and firing as the Freedom approached. "That's useless," Kira murmured to himself. "They have to know that can't hurt me..." He threw the Freedom into a dizzying evasive pattern, throwing off their aims, and drew his Lacerta beam sabers. "Just get out of my way!" he called out.

The two pilots were stunned by the stranger's speed, and by the ease with which his fiery blades swept out, sheering through armor and internal systems alike as they ripped through the GINNs' arms and heads.

In an instant, Kira was past, and nothing lay in his path but open space... and Earth itself. He didn't even notice the shuttle that he shot past... and thus had no idea that Athrun Zala had just passed him.

Kira Yamato was going back to the _Archangel,_ to his home... and _nothing_ was getting in his way.

* * *

Author's note: The verdict of the Board of Inquiry has been handed down, and Operation Spit Break has commenced. Now Kira has the Freedom, and is on his way to Earth; and Preybird will soon have its true test in battle… 

Yeah, I know, another late update. Well, that was the last section I should have any real trouble with, so the _next_ update should be a little faster.

In the meantime, let me know if this chapter was any good. -Solid Shark


	27. Chapter 27: Birds of a Feather

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Main Airlock, May 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

"I suppose it'll be awhile before we see you again," Murrue Ramius said softly. "I can't say I'm very happy about your transfer, Commander." 

Most of the crew was assembled to see off three of their number, as they departed the ship. Natarle Badgiruel was, for once, looking to be in complete agreement with her Captain; as was most of _Archangel_'s crew. This was a day they'd never really expected.

Mu La Flaga shrugged unhappily. "I can't say I'm too happy about it, either," he told her. "I mean, come on; why do they want me as an instructor in California at a time like _this?"_

"Well," Murrue suggested, "at least with you teaching, there should be a lot fewer rookie casualties on the battlefield. Maybe that's what they're thinking about."

"I guess, but... Urgh!" The Hawk of Endymion pulled off his cap and squeezed it between his fingers. He couldn't find words to express his anger at being transferred off the _Archangel,_ after so long with the ship. _This is where I belong... if only those idiots at Headquarters understood that!_

"Come on," she said gently. "You'd better go." She raised her hand in a crisp salute. "It's been an honor to serve with you, Commander."

Sighing, Mu lifted his own hand. "The same to you... Ma'am." Turning on his heel with military precision, he walked through the hatch, returning the salutes that were directed his way by the assembled crew.

"Be careful out there, Mu!" Sophia "Victorian Kestrel" DiFalco called after him. "Don't let some rookie fly you into the ground."

He glanced over his shoulder, with a slight grin on his face. "And don't you get shot down when ZAFT attacks," he returned. "Good luck, Kestrel."

And he was gone.

Murrue then turned to the second departing crewman... or crew _woman,_ in this case. "I'm sorry to see you go, Flay," she said quietly. "I wish it could be otherwise."

Flay Allster swallowed. "Captain... I don't _want_ to leave. I want to stay here, with the _Archangel!"_

The Captain sighed. "I know. Unfortunately, Headquarters has... other ideas. On the other hand, you'll probably be safer, wherever you're going." She looked at the officer who stood to Flay's left, the third and final person to be leaving this day. "You'll take care of her, won't you?"

"I will."

Murrue lowered her voice. "I guess this is good bye, at least for now," she said sadly.

"Yes," Ken DiFalco agreed, allowing a wistful note to enter his voice (ever since his burst of amusement after the Board of Inquiry, he'd been much freer with expressions of emotion).

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" she asked. "I know you'll be back... but how soon can you manage to arrange it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "Depends on several factors; like when I have the greatest chance of not causing a lot of fuss when I turn up missing. But I'll be back as soon as I can, Murrue. You have my promise on that."

Murrue gripped his hand. "I'll hold you to that," she told him firmly. "You've become an integral part of _Archangel_'s command group, and an invaluable mobile suit pilot."

The ace smiled. "Yeah, well, I'd like to think I will be again; just so long as you make sure my Preybird is ready for me when I need it."

"You got my personal guarantee on that one, Commander," Kojiro Murdoch called. "I know you don't want anybody to touch it; and we'll make sure nobody does. Don't worry about a thing."

"Right," Sophia agreed with a slightly strained smile of her own. "You be careful out there, Falcon; now that we actually get along, I don't want you dying on me."

"Not a chance, Sis," the ace told her. Then, looking back at his Captain, he raised his hand in salute; but this time, it was the characteristic gesture used by ZAFT, not the Earth Forces. "I'd better be going, Captain," he said formally. "I don't want to be late; I suspect Captain Sutherland would just love an excuse to put me on report."

She nodded wordlessly, returning the salute.

Then it was Natarle's turn to speak up. "I hope to see you again soon, Commander," she told him. "Someplace other than the battlefield, I hope."

"Not much chance of that," he said solemnly. "But we can hope." Then, gesturing for the distraught Flay to precede him, the Grimaldi Falcon strode toward the hatch.

"Ken!" Murrue suddenly called, using his given name for some obscure reason. "Be careful," she said quietly, when he turned. "I... I'll miss you."

The Ken DiFalco that had come aboard at Heliopolis would've thought little of the remark; the niceties of human interaction had been shoved aside, as far as he was concerned, by the overwhelming responsibility of his self-assigned mission.

The Ken DiFalco who now left the _Archangel,_ however, had begun to recover the humanity that terror and guilt has stolen from him.

In his mind's eye, a malachite-eyed blonde in gold and blue seemed to smile and nod.

So Ken smiled, and said, "Me, too, Murrue."

And then he, too, was gone.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Brig

* * *

Murrue paused just inside the ship's detention area, feeling suddenly uncertain. This was the first time she'd come to see the prisoner held here, and she'd done it for the sole purpose of asking a question she'd never have dared air while Ken was still with the ship. _But I have to know... and he's the only one who can tell me. If he can't, no one can._

Dearka Elsman, lying on a bunk in his cell, caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He sat up, and then blinked in astonishment as he realized just who his visitor was. _What the- Isn't she the captain? What's _she _doing here?_

He cautiously cleared his throat; he didn't want any trouble, particularly not with the _Archangel_'s commanding officer. "Isn't it a little unusual for the captain to come all the way to the brig?" he asked carefully. "What do you want with _me?"_

Murrue walked closer to the cell. "I... need to ask you something," she said at last. "We have a friend in common, I believe."

Dearka raised an eyebrow. "You mean Falcon? Yeah; I've known him for about ten years or so. We were best friends... at least until he left ZAFT. Why?" Now he was genuinely curious. What could she want from him that she couldn't get from the ace himself?

"I've known him for a long time, too," she told him, "off and on; and I went to the Academy with his older sister. But... The Ken DiFalco who came aboard the _Archangel_ at Heliopolis seems very different from the one I knew, years ago. I... was wondering if you could tell me what changed; why he seemed to cold and... almost inhuman. Sophia thought that it was some kind of mental conditioning, but that doesn't seem to be it."

He slowly stood. "You're right," Dearka said slowly. "It wasn't anything Metzinger did to him -yeah, he told me about that- but I do know what it is." He frowned pensively. "He keeps a photo in his cockpit, or at least he used to. You ever see it?"

Murrue thought back. "A young woman, about his age, with blonde hair and malachite eyes... wearing a gold flightsuit with blue trim, right? What about her?"

Dearka leaned against the cell bulkhead. "To understand the Falcon's mind, you need to know her story, and how it was connected to his," he told her with a sigh. "Her name was..." His voice faltered, and she could tell that these words, for whatever reason, came to him only with difficulty. "Her name was Laura Elsman."

Murrue stiffened in shock. She remembered quite clearly when Sophia had first identified Dearka in Ken's graduation photo; she remembered Dearka's last name. "You mean, she was...?"

"Yeah," he said heavily. "She was my sister... and Falcon's girlfriend."

For Murrue Ramius, the pieces started coming together. Ken's single-minded devotion to his mission was far more than mere loyalty to the PLANTs; it was driven by... _What? Devotion to his girlfriend's -his best friend's sister's- memory?_

Dearka needed no prompting to continue the tale, now that he'd started. "They'd known each other as long as I'd known him, of course; and in 68 they finally got together. They managed to get assigned to the same teams, flying together... until February Fourteenth, 70."

She closed her eyes. "The day of the Bloody Valentine."

He nodded. "Right. The Earth Alliance's attack wasn't exactly unexpected; the declaration of war came a full three days before that, and we'd been expecting it even longer. The blockade in 69 told us that much, and we were ready for anything... except what they actually did." His fists clenched unconsciously, as he remembered that day. "It was a fierce battle, missiles, bullets, and beams going everywhere... but we were winning. Until, that is, Falcon noticed a mobile armor that was a little different from the others. Now, Falcon's an engineer, by training; a weapons engineer at that. He knew a nuclear missile when he saw it, so he tore off after that Moebius, ignoring everything else..."

"What happened then?" Murrue asked softly.

Dearka grimaced. "He and Laura fired everything they had at that thing, but the pilot was good; he managed to dodge everything long enough to get into firing range, and then it was too late. Falcon knew it, so he pulled out, racing to get out of the blast radius... but Laura's GINN was already badly damaged from the earlier fighting. She... didn't make it."

She closed her eyes. "She died in the same moment as Ken's home," she murmured. "That... must've hit him hard."

"It did," he agreed. "I don't know if you've seen the visual records of that battle, but I have; and let me tell you, you never want to be on the wrong side of a battle when Falcon goes Berserker. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does..."

A thought struck the Captain. "So what happened to Raptor wasn't an isolated incident."

"No; the GINN he flew at the Bloody Valentine came apart on the spot. His cockpit literally disintegrated around him, and he had to be rescued before he could drift off into interplanetary space." Dearka sighed again. "He was unconscious by then, but not from his wounds; and he was never quite the same after that. I've never seen him show any interest in entering another relationship, and he's almost- no, that's not it. He _is_ obsessed with protecting the PLANTs, because it's all he has left... and because he promised Laura."

Murrue slowly shook her head. "I had no idea about any of this..."

"I'm not surprised; Falcon and I are the only people who know exactly what happened that day, and I know he doesn't like to discuss it with strangers." He barked a laugh. "Actually, he won't even discuss it with _me,_ and she was my sister."

"To lose his home and his girlfriend in the same, horrific event... no wonder he turned out as he did."

Dearka nodded. "Yeah. There's a reason his team was nicknamed the Gray Demons, Captain. It wasn't just because his pilots were incredible flyers; it was also because _he_ fought like a demon. Look, you've never seen him at his best, not really."

"But," Murrue protested, "he flew to the best of his ability every time he went out there to protect this ship."

He shook his head. "Not quite. He was doing his best, sure; but in space, he was either faced with only a couple of opponents, or he was trying to disable, instead of kill. On the ground, he was usually forced into unfamiliar battle scenarios; after all, he'd never fought in the atmosphere before."

She frowned speculatively. "If that's the case, he's gotten the hang of fighting in atmosphere by now; which makes me wonder: how good would he be if he took Preybird out today?"

Dearka grinned despite himself. "Having been blown out of the sky by that machine when it was piloted by someone _other_ than Falcon... I don't think there's a pilot or a machine out there right now who can take him, except maybe the Strike pilot... and even then, only with a next-generation machine of his own."

* * *

JOSHUA Base, Alaska, Submarine Dock

* * *

"Sure is busy," Mu remarked, noting the huge number of soldiers moving to board the large number of transport subs still docked at the base's harbor. "I wonder what's going on?" 

"Must still be sending troops off to Panama," Ken mused absently; he was peering at his pocket computer. "I guess they're still fooled..."

"Yeah." The Hawk scratched his head. "Say, where are you heading? Sutherland didn't say..."

"Panama," the ace replied. "So's Flay. You?"

"Same direction; I guess they figure it'll be safer to transfer me to California from there." Mu snorted. "Though only a desk jockey would think that sending me fifteen hundred kilometers _past_ my destination makes any sense. Well, I guess that's the breaks in this business."

"Will we be safe?" Flay wondered aloud, anxious. "ZAFT is supposed to be attacking Panama soon, aren't they?"

Ken smiled slightly. "Supposed to be? Yes... but I daresay that's nothing but a feint. The quickest way to slay the beast is to cut off its head..." He trailed off, concentrating again on his computer. "Hmm... that's strange..."

His brother raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Falcon?"

"I'm not sure..." The line to the submarines advanced, and Ken followed mechanically in its wake, but his attention was not at all on his surroundings. "There's something..." He froze, and muttered a word that was not only impolite, but also extremely out of character.

"What is it?" Mu demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Tell you in a minute. For now..." Ken glanced at Flay. "I'd better not leave you behind. Come on, we're going back into the base."

He strode off, Flay following closely as she tried to keep up with his rapid footsteps. "Where are you going?" she asked. "What's going on?"

Mu headed off after them, wondering just what had possessed his little brother to charge off like that. _He's not normally that impetuous; the last time, it got him all the way out to the _Archangel...

Ken came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the corridor leading back into the main base, for there stood a pair of guards, with assault rifles, neither of whom looking pleased to see the ace. "You can't pass," one of them said sharply. "I believe your orders, Commander, are to depart by submarine for Panama. I suggest you carry them out, _sir."_

Mu strode to the ace's side. "Just a minute, Lieutenant," he said angrily. "Commander DiFalco outranks you-"

_"You_ can pass, Commander La Flaga," the Earth Forces lieutenant interrupted, "but we have strict orders to ensure Commander DiFalco continues on to his destination." He unslung his assault rifle, pointing it at the ground at the ex-ZAFT pilot's feet.

"Stand back, you two," Ken told his companions, and casually set his duffle bag down. "You don't want to get in my way, fellas," he said easily.

Neither guard budged. "Commander DiFalco, you have your orders."

Ken's expression hardened. "I'm only going to tell you this once, Lieutenant: Get. Out. Of. My. Way."

The guards abandoned persuasion, and rifle muzzles came up. Mu ducked back in sheer shock, reaching for his sidearm-

And Ken moved.

His right hand, now freed from carrying the duffle bag, darted into his trench coat. With the sound of metal on wood, his meter-long katana swept out, and his left hand joined his right on its crimson hilt; and the blade flashed in a diagonal backhand, ripping into the first guard. It cut through him from right hip to left shoulder as though he where made of tissue paper, and he fell messily to the floor.

Before his partner even had time to react, Ken had swung around in a complete circle, building kinetic energy, and his weapon sliced cleanly through the man's rifle, reversed just above shoulder-level, and swept through his neck.

As was typical of one of Ken's sword rampages, it was over in under three seconds, and Mu stared at the younger pilot. _"Do you have any idea what you just did?"_ he whispered harshly; to his shock, no one else had even noticed the carnage, probably because a sword doesn't make much of a sound... and neither man had time to scream. _"You just killed two of your comrades-!"_

"They weren't my comrades," Ken replied coldly, flicking his blade out to scatter the blood, and then sheathing it. "They never were; and we don't have time for this."

Flay's eyes were wide as saucers, and the Hawk couldn't decide if he was more shocked or furious. "You just murdered-"

"Stuff it!" the ace snapped. "Don't you get it? Those were Sutherland's men; and Sutherland, like most of the rest of the Earth Forces' higher-ups, is a member of Blue Cosmos."

Mu stiffened. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. The Earth Alliance is little more than a front for Blue Cosmos, and that's how it's been from day one." Ken's eye was narrowed dangerously. "It was Blue Cosmos, not the PLANTs, that carried out the Copernicus bombing, and they did it not just to lay even more suspicion on us, but also to gain control of the soon-to-be Alliance." Without another word, he charged into the base's interior.

Flay looked at the Hawk. "W-what do we do now?"

Mu closed his eyes. "We follow him," he said finally. "And hope he knows what on earth he's doing."

* * *

JOSHUA Base, Alaska, Interior

* * *

It didn't take long for Mu and Flay to catch up with their wayward comrade; he was easy enough to find, with his trench coat fluttering behind him. 

"Would you mind telling me just what is going on?" Mu demanded. "It's not like you to suddenly go charging off, killing two men in the process."

"Operation Spit Break has begun," Ken replied grimly. "My pocket computer picked up coded and scrambled radio traffic on ZAFT frequencies. I broke it easily enough, and confirmed that the attack is underway."

The Hawk cursed. "So where are you going?"

"Back to the _Archangel,_ if possible. Unfortunately, I suspect they've already been deployed. If that's the case, I might have to arrange transportation first. After that-"

Mu didn't bother to ask why his brother suddenly broke off; he felt it, too. "This feeling... is Rau Le Creuset here?"

Ken cursed imaginatively under his breath. "That's Rau, all right; that bastard. And if he's here, in JOSHUA Base itself... Let's hurry."

He darted down a side corridor, nearly losing Flay in the process. "Is it just me," Mu wondered aloud as they ran, "or is this place a lot emptier than it's supposed to be? I thought this was supposed to be Headquarters, not a ghost town."

"That's what I thought, too," the ace grunted. "Let's head for the Operations Room; if there are any answers, they'll be there."

* * *

Outside JOSHUA Base, Alaska

* * *

The alarms ringing out from Headquarters had brought the entire crew to high alert, and now Murrue punched buttons on the arm of her chair. "Get us out there," she barked to Neumann as she worked. "The sooner we're in contact with the enemy, the sooner we can fight back." 

"But that's crazy!" Kuzzey protested. "We only have one pilot-"

He was interrupted when the Captain finally got a radio link through to Headquarters. "Captain Sutherland!" she called to the image that formed on the screen. "What's the situation?"

Sutherland's face was a mask of fury; though not, it appeared, at her. _"ZAFT launched the massive attack we were expecting,"_ he said, obviously forcing a controlled tone. _"But the attack on Panama was nothing more than a ruse; they drew off our strength, and attacked _here, _instead."_

She nodded, but inwardly her feelings were more akin to admiration. _Ken, you pulled off another one. Now, if we can only survive your brilliant plan..._ "What are our orders, sir?"

_"Defend the base at all costs. There's no time to integrate you into the primary battle plan, so operate at your discretion. Do your best, Captain. Headquarters, out."_

Sutherland's image disappeared, and Natarle shook her head in annoyance. "During the Board of Inquiry, he was quick to tell us exactly where and when we could've done things better; but now that he's in a position to tell us how we should fight, he doesn't have anything useful to say. Figures." She looked up. "Captain, shall I order Commander DiFalco to launch?"

Murrue considered that for only a split-second before nodding. "Yes, tell Sophia-"

"Status change!" Mir suddenly called. "Preybird has dropped cloak, activated main systems, and begun making its way to the catapult!"

Murrue's head snapped around. "What? Why?"

_"I think it knows what it's doing, Captain,"_ Murdoch called from the hangar. _"I think Commander DiFalco -Falcon, I mean- left some kind of beckon-call programming in both the machine and the ship; he must've activated it somehow, and now Preybird's into an automated launch sequence."_

She felt some of her tension fade into a wave of relief. "Then Ken's coming back," she said, almost to herself. "All right, don't interfere with it; and tell Sophia to launch at once. We need to keep the airspace clear enough for Preybird to make an unmanned flight to... to wherever Ken is calling it to. I know that thing is powerful, but I doubt it can fight without a pilot in it."

_"Roger that."_

Murrue glanced into CIC again. "What's the situation, Crewman Argyle?"

"Chaotic, Ma'am," Sai answered. "We have dozens -no, over a hundred ZAFT mobile suits -BuCUEs, ZuOOTs, DINNs, GOOhNs, ZnOs, GINNs, and CGUEs- and several submarine carriers." He tapped his displays. "Looks like they're low on submarine mobile suits."

Natarle glanced at him. "Few amphibious machines?"

"Affirmative, Ma'am."

Murrue sighed in additional, if slight, relief. "Then at least we don't have to worry much about being attacked from below." GOOhNs and ZnOs had been the _Archangel_'s most dangerous opponents, even outclassing the stolen G-weapons themselves, since the ship had reached Earth. Without them, they at least could largely ignore the sea beneath them... especially since, according to Ken, _Vosgulovs_ had effectively zero offensive capability when submerged.

Sai, meanwhile, continued his sitrep. "Our forces have already taken heavy casualties; we just lost the cruiser _Graf Spee,_ and- Omega Signal from battleship _Tirpitz._ Heavy fire-support for the southeast quadrant of the formation is down heavily. Battlecruiser _Hood_ is gone..."

Sophia, who had been listening in even as she prepared to launch, suddenly broke into the litany of loss reports. _"Murrue, is it just me, or are _all _those ships Eurasian?"_

Murrue started. "You're right. Coincidence...?"

"Checking fleet composition, Captain," Sai interjected, beginning a search without waiting for orders. "No coincidence, Captain," he reported after a moment. "According to Fleet datanet, _Archangel_ is the only ship in the fleet not belonging to the Eurasian Federation."

Natarle's eyes narrowed. "Captain, something isn't right here."

The Captain nodded. "I know, Natarle. But we don't have time to figure it out now; we'll just have to wait until Ken returns and gives us one of his brilliant conclusions."

Murrue didn't sound in the slightest sarcastic, and, if Natarle wondered about the fond note in her voice, she didn't comment.

* * *

JOSHUA Base Interior

* * *

"Okay," Ken muttered, still moving as fast as his bio-engineered leg muscles would carry him, "now I'm getting confused, and I don't like being confused. Nothing _ever_ confuses me..." 

Mu snorted a laugh. For most of the journey into the curiously-empty base, the ace had kept up a steady litany of muttering under his breath, interspersed with the occasional curse. This situation had him perplexed, and he obviously wasn't a man accustomed to being perplexed.

He also appeared to be tiring, which worried the Hawk. He remembered his brother's inexplicable weakness after bursts of activity that should have been no problem for a Coordinator; it would be a bad thing if it happened now, of all times.

On the other hand, the ex-ZAFT pilot had also been known to go for several days without sleep...

Flay, meanwhile, was having difficulty keeping up with the pair. She wasn't used to this kind of physical activity, and it was beginning to take its toll on her. "How... much farther...?" she gasped.

"We're almost there," Ken told her, and skidded to a sudden stop. "Here we are... Quiet," he hissed abruptly.

Mu nodded; he felt it, too. Together, sidearms in hand -Ken had produced a machine pistol from somewhere- they peered around the corner... and then Flay, not understanding what was going on, walked right into the operations room.

Instantly, a hail of bullets erupted from within, and Flay ducked. "Ahh!" Another fully-automatic burst spat out...

Then Ken was there, having dropped his pistol, and swept his sword around, deflecting bullets all over the room. "Cut it out, Rau!" he called. "Or I'll cut you to ribbons!"

Mu dashed in and took cover with them, as quiet laughter drifted over. "It's been awhile, you two," Rau Le Creuset said, amusement in his voice. "It's a pity we don't have time to chat; although if you're still hanging around this place, your usefulness to the Earth Forces must be nearly at an end." He chuckled. "The Hawk of Endymion and the Grimaldi Falcon... oh, how the mighty have fallen!"

"We don't intend to die here today, Le Creuset," Mu informed him. "But you might."

"Maybe so... but I suggest you take a look around before you make any long-term plans. Which begs the question, Falcon: how do you feel, being the architect of your own demise?"

"Not nearly as good as I'll feel about being the architect of _your_ demise, Rau," the ace hissed. "One of these days..."

There was a laugh, and the sound of rapid footsteps, then silence.

Ken cursed, sheathed his blade, and knelt by Flay. "You okay?"

She examined herself carefully, as if expecting to find bullet holes, before nodding shakily. "Y-yes, I think so... Thank you."

The faintest trace of a smile. "No problem."

Mu, meanwhile, had gotten to his feet, and was examining the various displays. "You know," he muttered, "for an operations room, there doesn't seem to be much going on right now..."

Ken joined him. "I know. Something isn't right... and what was Rau talking about...?" He bent to take a closer look at one screen... and his blood ran cold. "Mu..." he whispered harshly. "You'd... better take a look at this." He'd gone pale, and he was almost shaking.

"Wha...?" The Hawk looked close, and the blood drained from his face. "No! Those bastards!"

Flay hurried over. "What's wrong?" she demanded anxiously. "What are those circles?"

Rage had mingled with fear on Ken's face. "Those aren't circles, Flay... those are microwave transmission dishes." His hand clenched into a trembling fist. "That's the biggest Cyclops System I've ever seen." He closed his eye. "Lesson Thirty: If a Cyclops System enters the equation, drop whatever you're doing and run like a bat out of hell."

Drawing on reserves of strength he hadn't realized he had, the ace spun around and charged off, with Mu and Flay close on his heels.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge/Starboard Flight Deck

* * *

Natarle Badgiruel was getting the distinct feeling that something had gone very, very wrong. 

First the strange discovery that, aside from the _Archangel,_ every single ship in the fleet was Eurasian, then the odd lack of a battle plan (hadn't Headquarters ever heard of contingency planning?), and now ZAFT forces were ripping the Fleet to pieces.

As she watched her displays, a Eurasian battleship -the _Bismarck,_ she noted absently- took a direct hit on her reactor and vanished in a violent explosion that hurled pieces of debris everywhere; then a destroyer was struck by a GOOhN-launched torpedo, which ripped a gigantic hole in the keel, and sank like a stone.

GOOhNs and ZnOs were attacking from below, DINNs wheeled about in the sky, and GINNs and CGUEs circled atop Guuls in a deadly ballet that was tearing the Earth Forces formation apart. The _Archangel_ herself had gotten off reasonably lightly so far, but it was only a matter of time...

"What's the Preybird's status?" Murrue called. "Has it made it through the enemy air cover?"

_"Affirm, Murrue,"_ Sophia replied, absently blowing a ZuOOT to pieces with her Agni. _"It went Mirage Colloid shortly after launch, and according to telemetry entered through one of the base hangars a couple minutes ago. Whatever Falcon's up to, he now has the capability to pull it off... assuming he can reach the upper levels of the base."_

The Captain frowned. "Why couldn't he? ZAFT forces haven't gained access to the base interior yet, have they?"

"I believe Commander DiFalco is referring to the fact that Captain Sutherland may have posted guards to ensure Commander- er, _Falcon_ got on his transport." Natarle used the pilot's nickname, despite her preference for military protocol, for the simple reason that having two Commander DiFalcos around was far too confusing. "If that's the case..."

_"He probably killed them,"_ Sophia said grimly. _"I don't think he was ever truly loyal to the Earth Forces, and he has a short way with people who interfere with his business. On the other hand, I expect he had good reason... especially knowing how trigger-happy some Alliance people are when it comes to Coordinators."_

Murrue sighed. "You're probably right, Sophia. I just hope he's all right..."

Further conversation was cut off by a sudden missile barrage. Without waiting for orders, Neumann wrenched the ship around. If that salvo hit, it wouldn't take a lucky shot to knock the _Archangel_ out of the sky.

Most of the missiles streaked harmlessly past, and more were destroyed by last-ditch point defense, but one got through, and slammed into the starboard catapult hatch.

Down in the flight deck, Murdoch hurled himself to the deck, taking two of his mechanics with him, as the explosion ripped into the hatch. The hatch wasn't nearly as heavily-armored as the rest of the ship's hull, and it tore into fragments that sliced through the air of the compartment like knives.

One such fragment grazed a mechanic's leg, ripping through muscle tissue, and a scream split the air. "Medic!" Murdoch shouted, pulling himself to an intercom panel. "We need a medic down in the starboard flight deck, ASAP!"

Even as he spoke, another man used his belt and a piece of debris as a tourniquet for the wounded man's leg, and work went on...

* * *

JOSHUA Base Interior

* * *

To hasten their escape from the doomed base, the trio had appropriated a pair of motorcycles; now Flay rode behind Mu, while Ken had a bike to himself, his trench coat billowing out behind him. 

"This is crazy, Falcon!" Mu called over the sound of their vehicles. "How can they be insane enough to use a Cyclops?"

"Not insane, Mu," the ace replied harshly. "From their point of view, it actually makes sense. Think about it: this way, they not only take out the majority of ZAFT's earthbound fighting strength, but also the troublesome Eurasians -you know as well as I that the Atlantic Federation dominates the Alliance, and they don't get along with the Eurasians- and the _Archangel,_ which they probably consider tainted by Kira and me. Not to mention that this gives them the chance to get rid of _me,_ too."

"Then we'll just have to foil their plans, won't we?"

"Yeah... but there's something else about this that disturbs me." Ken tightened his grip on the bike's handlebars. "That Cyclops was purpose-built for this operation... which tells me that they knew of the attack in advance."

Mu's eyes narrowed. "You mean someone in ZAFT leaked intelligence."

"Exactly... and when I find out who spoiled my carefully-prepared plan, I'll skin him alive. Slowly."

Flay, who had heretofore been silent, spoke up, almost inaudible under the background noise. "But who would do something like that?"

Ken shrugged. "I don't know; but I'll kill him anyway."

They came to an elevator about then, skidded to a stop, and dismounted from their bikes as the door slid closed. "This should take us up to one of the hangars," Mu said, pausing to regain his breath. "From there, we can steal a couple planes, get out of here before the Cyclops blows..."

Ken smiled; the hungry look of a predator. "I think I've got something better than that, Mu. Something with a little more firepower..."

* * *

JOSHUA Base, Hangar

* * *

When the elevator doors opened again, the space quickly filled with smoke, shouting, and the smell of blood. The fighting had been fierce, and now it had come to the base itself. 

"This doesn't look good!" Mu shouted over the din. "Falcon, where's this 'something better' you were talking about, anyway?"

"I'll go get it!" Ken called back. "Take Flay with you, and tell these idiots they need to get ten kilometers from here before the Cyclops turns them into burnt pork!"

"Roger that!" With a wave of his hand, the Hawk departed into the smoke, Flay close behind. He hadn't a clue what his brother was talking about, but he'd learned to trust the young ace's judgment. _Now, if we can just get out of this mess alive..._

"Where are we going?" Flay asked. "What's Falcon doing?"

"I don't know what _he's_ doing; but we're trying to find somebody to warn. Wait a sec." Mu skidded to a halt near a Eurasian trooper who was shouting into an intercom.

"What was that?" the man was asking. "What about the Eleventh Air Defense corps? It's destroyed? But-"

Mu grabbed the man's shoulder. "Listen to me!" he shouted into his face. "You need to get everyone out of here, right now! Get at least ten kilometers from the base!"

The trooper stared at him. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "And who are you?"

_We don't have time for this._ "My name is Mu La Flaga, and if you don't get out of here, the Cyclops under the base will burn you to a crisp!"

It took only moments for the man to assimilate that Mu La Flaga was someone whose record was unquestioned, and so could be believed, even when he said something as crazy as there being a Cyclops beneath the base. It took only a moment after that for him to realize what the only sensible course of action was.

He ran like a bat out of hell.

"Well," Mu murmured, satisfied. "That takes care of _that_ problem. Now, where's-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, something very large pounded to a halt right in front of him, and his eyes widened when he realized it was a mobile suit. _Uh oh..._

Then the machine knelt, and Mu realized that it was Ken's Preybird. How it had gotten here, he didn't know; nor did he particularly care.

The cockpit, so like the Strike on the outside, popped open. "Get in, you two," Ken ordered, from within what looked something like an egg inside the cockpit. "Flay, you'll have to get in behind the gunner's module; I know it's not the best place, but there's only two seats. Mu, get in the gunner's position."

"Roger that." Helping Flay in ahead of him, Mu carefully climbed past the pilot's module and dropped into the gunner's seat; somehow he wasn't surprised when the top of the flatted-ovoid module closed a few centimeters above his head, and the seat molded itself -more or less- to his body. "Neat setup, Falcon," he called, presuming the intercom to be active. "But how in the world am I supposed to see out? I don't see any screens..."

Suddenly, the module's skin seemed to become transparent, and he could look out at the hangar around him... and see the ace right in front of him, seemingly floating in the air. "The module's surface _is_ the display, Mu," Ken told him. "The wonders of modern technology. Anyway, once we're out into the clear I'll slave a few of the weapons' systems to your controls. For now, though, I suggest you get used to the display."

"Uh... yeah..." Mu followed his brother's advice, merely watching as the machine plodded toward the hangar's exit. "Fancy suit, I'll give it that..."

"Will we be all right now?" Flay asked from her cramped position in the rear of the cockpit.

Ken smiled thinly. "Flay, trust me. Unless ZAFT has deployed X10A Freedom -which seems unlikely; my people would've seized it, pilot or no pilot, before they let happen- there's nothing out there today that will stop me. Not even Yzak Joule's Duel."

Mu frowned. "The Freedom? What's that?"

"I imagine you'll be meeting it before long, Mu; Sparky said in his last message that it was nearly complete, and if that's the case, my Demons will have seized it by now. But what it is, is another next-generation mobile suit. Some elements of its design are taken from this very machine, and others ZAFT came up with on their own after studying the combat data of their captured mobile suits. Wait one."

The reason for his abrupt command was quickly apparent: a CGUE had landed in the hangar, accompanied by a pair of GINNs. "We've gained access to a secondary entry point," the CGUE's pilot reported; his voice was audible in the Preybird's cockpit, thanks to the frequencies and scrambler codes Tom Delaney had loaded into its computers. "We've spotted Natural activity, and we're moving in."

That was when Ken opened his mouth, uttered his hunting call, and fired off his rail cannons.

He fired three paired shots, allocating two rounds to each machine, and they fell backward into the water; dead or disabled, Mu couldn't tell. "Impressive," was his only comment.

"Thanks." Ken rested his foot on the vernier control pedal. "We're about to take off; hang on, Flay."

He applied power to his thrusters, spread Preybird's wings, and launched out into the battle.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

_"Murrue, this is Sophia,"_ the Victorian Kestrel called, flashing past the _Archangel_'s Bridge. _"I have visual confirmation of Preybird's launch; and judging from how it's flying, it's manned this time."_

Murrue nodded. "One thing, though: are you certain it's Ken in that thing, not some ZAFT pilot who stumbled on it?"

_"I'd say so,"_ Sophia said dryly. _"If how he rigged Raptor is any indication, any unauthorized access attempt would probably have resulted in a very large explosion. Remember, the ol' Iron Eagle doesn't like it when people mess with his stuff."_

"Yes, I remember." Murrue glanced down into CIC. "Re-prioritize our fire; I want to provide support for Preybird until it can arrive."

"Yes, Ma'am," Natarle acknowledged. "Although I doubt that will be much of an issue."

* * *

Outside JOSHUA Base, Alaska

* * *

"We're in the clear, for the moment," Ken murmured. "I don't think the ZAFT forces have any idea what to do about us yet; so I'd better take the time to get ready for battle. Mu, I'm activating a bypass to your controls for the rail cannons and the DRAGOON system." 

Mu gripped his control sticks, but frowned. "DRAGOON system? Just what exactly is _that?"_

The ace grinned. "If you thought the Death Blossoms were good, just wait till you try this out. You're one of the few people who, like me, can use the system; make the most of it. We'll need all our firepower to make it through this melee."

"Got it." Mu started tapping on the control panel in front of him, familiarizing himself with how the weapons worked, and nodded. "I'll make sure to go for disabling attacks when possible-"

"No."

The soft, flat response startled him. "What was that, Falcon? What do you mean, no?"

"I meant what I said." Ken sighed. "Mu, there's no time for disabling attacks any longer. Those pilots, even my own former comrades, are out to kill me. I can't let that happen; I'm not kidding when I say that for right now, my survival is _imperative;_ nobody else knows everything... and I can't place that burden on anyone else. Shoot to kill, Mu."

The Hawk closed his eyes. "I understand."

"Good. Now, let's get some of our own back."

Suiting actions to words, Ken snatched out the massive Gerbera Straight, and rushed forward. As the DRAGOON remote units dropped away from Preybird's wings, the mighty sword cleaved downward, ripping through a GINN before it could decide what to do...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"I think you were right about him not needing cover, Natarle," Murrue said, feeling almost detached. "I don't think Ken needs any help at all." 

Natarle nodded, impressed despite herself. "Agreed, Captain. It appears that machine surpasses even my expectations."

The Bridge crew, taking advantage of a brief lull in the battle, was watching Preybird fight its way toward them. It had deployed some kind of remote laser system, consisting of ten units with multiple emitters, which would pick a target and then blast it to pieces. At the same time, Preybird itself was swinging its massive Gerbera Straight and cutting through any machine stupid enough to cross its path.

Sai winced in unwillingly sympathy, seeing a GOOhN blasted to scrap by the remote lasers. All ten emitters had chosen it as a target, and four beams came from each one, drilling into the unlucky mobile suit. It wasn't so much ripped apart as vaporized under the massive onslaught... and at the same moment, Preybird's left hand left the katana's hilt, grabbed something from its left shoulder, and threw a beam boomerang at a DINN. Then it sheathed the sword, caught the boomerang on its return -the weapon having split the enemy right down the middle- and pulled out the beam rifles clamped to the rail cannons.

The DRAGOON emitters suddenly clustered around their mother machine, and fired along with the rifles and rail cannons, for a total of forty-two energy stream and two electromagnetically-accelerated projectiles, all racing along in the same general direction.

When the explosions stopped occurring, Natarle spoke again. "Preybird seems to have cleared a path for itself, Captain. Shall I resume offensive fire?"

Murrue nodded, stunned by the carnage her young friend's machine had unleashed. "Yes, Natarle, do that..."

Mir and Sai glanced at each other. "I knew that thing was good," Sai murmured, "from when it saved us outside Orb and at the Marshall Islands. But I didn't know it could do _that..."_

"I guess there's a reason Ken was so confident when he took out those DINNs," Mir said softly. "He may just save us all..." She looked up abruptly. "Captain, Preybird is on approach to the starboard catapult. Shall I...?"

Murrue smiled wryly. "Why bother, Crewman? There's a good-sized hole in it anyway; and I'm sure Ken's a good enough pilot to just fly right through it."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Starboard Flight Deck

* * *

"Here we go, people," Ken murmured. "Hold on; this won't be a gentle landing." He angled Preybird down toward the clearly-visible hole in the flight deck hatch. "Beginning descent... now." 

For a maneuver of such complexity, it went remarkably smoothly; the only side effect was making Flay want to throw up.

Murdoch grinned, watching the machine come to a very fast, kneeling halt, open its hatch, and disgorge its pilot. "Nice work, kid," he called. "It looks like-"

Ken dashed right past... and was followed by Mu La Flaga and Flay Allster. "No time to chat, Chief," Mu said in passing. "We have business on the Bridge!"

The Chief looked at one of his mechanics. "Anybody know what the Commander and the girl are doin' here? 'Cause I don't."

Nobody answered.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Having left Flay to find her way back to her quarters, Ken and Mu burst onto the Bridge within two minutes, to Murrue's considerable surprise. "Ken? What are you- _Commander?"_ She stared at the Hawk. "What are _you_ doing here? What about your transfer?" 

"That's not important," he told her. "What _is_ important is that coming back may've been my only chance of staying alive." Now that he was out of immediate danger, anger was surging through him again, and it was evident in his voice and features. "Those bastards!"

"He means that the Earth Forces have set a trap here," Ken explained, his own eye flaming. "A trap that would take out not just the ZAFT forces, but us, too." His fist clenched. "Those bastards have set a Cyclops underneath the base, with a ten-kilometer blast radius."

Murrue jerked in shock. _"What?"_

"When that thing goes off," Mu concurred, "it will turn everything within that ten-kilometer radius into a blast furnace. In the process, it'll take out virtually the entire ZAFT force here... and us with it! That's the scenario for this battle, as imagined by the top brass!"

"It can't be!" she protested.

"It is," Ken said, voice like iron. "We saw the specs, we saw the battle plan -presumably they weren't expecting anyone to actually go all the way back to the operations room- and we saw this, too: the base is virtually empty. I don't know where Sutherland is commanding this battle from, but it's not here."

"Our only purpose here was as a diversion," Mu told her. "Soon, this 'diversionary force' will be wiped out, and the main gate will fall; and when that happens, Headquarters will know it, and they'll activate the Cyclops."

"They used us," Ken agreed. "And worse, they used _me..._ and the plan I created. Rau was right, the bastard; I'm the architect of our demise, blast it." He muttered something else under his breath; something considerably less polite.

"What kind of crazy plan _is_ this?"

Murrue's head came around, looking for the origin of the voice, and she saw Mir, in CIC, looking forlorn. "Crewman Haw..."

"Because this is a war..." she whispered. "And because soldiers are supposed to follow orders... even if it leads to our deaths, right? Do we just... keep going?"

"They lost any claim on your loyalty today, Mir," Ken told her, gently, but with a strange light in his eye. "They've betrayed you this day, much as Patrick Zala and ZAFT betrayed me. Now... the only thing that can guide your actions is your own conscience." He spun, and walked to the bow of the Bridge. "Well?" the Grimaldi Falcon demanded, looking at them all. "Are you going to just die here, or will you fight your way out of this betrayal? Will you let them win, or will you battle for survival? The choice is yours... and _only_ yours. _Now_ is the time to choose."

Murrue suddenly had the eerie feeling that this was a moment her friend had been waiting for from the moment he came onboard, at Heliopolis... and she understand that, in some obscure fashion, he had just laid upon them the responsibility of choosing their own destiny. _No,_ she thought, _he didn't lay it on us; he just showed us that it was already ours._

_That from the moment our leaders betrayed us, everything was up to us._

Captain Murrue Ramius of the Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel_ drew herself to her feet. "If the entire purpose of this battle, and our part in it, was to lure the enemy into a trap," she said in clear voice, "then in my professional opinion, this ship has already completed her mission. The _Archangel_ will now break off offensive action, and withdraw from the battle area." Then, as though speaking for the record, she continued, "Let it be clearly understood that I, Murrue Ramius, Captain of the _Archangel,_ have made this decision alone. No other crew member is to be held responsible for these actions."

Mu smiled, and Ken solemnly drew himself to attention, then saluted. "Captain Murrue Ramius," he said formally, "I believe this vessel is now in a state of mutiny against rightful authority. Therefore, I hereby fully endorse your actions, and request permission to rejoin the crew of the rogue Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel."_

Murrue stared at him for several seconds, before realizing that, though his words were jesting, his intent was not. "Commander Kenneth DiFalco, I accept you as a member of this group." Then she smiled. "And may I say, welcome back, Ken."

He returned the smile, and clasped her hand; and in that moment she recalled that ZAFT was far more informal than the Earth Forces. _He was probably chafing under it the whole time,_ she thought. _He's used to close-knit groups; even more so than the _Archangel.

_And why am I thinking about that right now?_

"It's good to be back, Murrue," the ace said easily. "Even if I was only gone a few hours. Which reminds me," he added, snapping his fingers. "We brought Flay out with us; I presume she's in her quarters right now, doing her best not to think about the battle."

Murrue nodded in relief. "That's good to hear. I'm not sure how well she'd do, outside the _Archangel,_ without anyone familiar around. At least she's safe, even if we _are_ in the middle of a battle."

Natarle cleared her throat. "About that, Captain... this _is,_ as you said, a battle. Should we perhaps get back to fighting it?"

Ken nodded. "Right you are, Lieutenant; questions of loyalty can be settled when we're not in danger of being incinerated. Mu," he said, turning to his brother, "I suggest you get into a flightsuit and return to the Preybird; I'll suit up myself, and join you after I've made a detour to the Brig."

Mu blinked, startled. "Sure, Falcon; but... the Brig? I don't think now's the time to chat with the prisoner, you know..."

"He's not just a prisoner; he also happens to be my best friend." The ace's eye narrowed. "And besides... I think I can convince him to help us get out of here."

Now it was Murrue's turn to be startled. "What? How? He's a ZAFT pilot..."

"And right now, not only is saving this ship _his_ only chance for survival, but shooting down ZAFT pilots is, for the moment, the best way to make sure they get out alive."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Brig

* * *

Dearka looked up in surprise, hearing the brig hatch open... and then seeing who was entering. "Falcon?" he said, eyebrows raised. "I thought you transferred out; and even if you didn't, what are you doing down here when there's a battle on?" 

"I did transfer out," Ken replied, he was already in his flightsuit. "But I decided to come back. And as for what I'm doing here... I'm offering you a chance to go out there and fight."

The ZAFT pilot looked at him in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? Just what makes you think I'd willingly go out there and shoot at ZAFT forces?" Then he noticed the cold gleam in his friend's eye, and had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Just what is going on, Falcon?"

Ken rested a hand on his sword hilt. "Let me tell you something, Dearka. Disabling those ZAFT machines is the kindest thing you could do to them right now. See, the Earth Forces have betrayed us all. Somehow they got wind of Spit Break... and they've deployed a Cyclops system."

Dearka's eyes went wide. "You're kidding," he whispered. "They'd never sacrifice their own forces like that..."

"You weren't at Endymion, Dearka. I was. Believe me, there's a Cyclops out there... and Rau knows it, yet he doesn't seem to have warned anyone."

A wave of conflicting emotions went through the pilot. _Commander Le Creuset...? But, why...? Our forces are walking right into a trap, and they don't even know it... It's treason to help the legged ship, but if I don't..._

Dearka didn't know what to do. On the one hand, helping the legged ship and shooting down ZAFT pilots was treason. On the other, if Commander Le Creuset hadn't even warned anyone about the impending Cyclops...

_There comes a time when you have to make a choice,_ he realized slowly. _Falcon made his last year... and now it's time for me to make mine._

_Even if it means treason._

Dearka swallowed. "All right, Falcon. It's a deal." He got to his feet. "Now, get me out of here."

The reason the ace had rested his hand on his sword earlier became suddenly obvious. "Stand back,":he ordered, and his hand and blade blurred.

Four swift cuts later, the cell door fell away, and Dearka stepped gingerly through. "I hope that wasn't expensive," he said dryly.

Ken shrugged. "I doubt we'd ever need all the cells at once, anyway. C'mon, let's get out of here; you'll be pleased to know that Chief Murdoch and his people have completely repaired the Buster."

Dearka raised an eyebrow. "And why would they do that?"

"They were bored."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

The pair came into the hangar at a dead run only minutes later; like Ken, Dearka had donned his flightsuit. _Good thing they kept my ZAFT suit around when they captured me,_ the -ex?- ZAFT pilot mused. _Now wouldn't be a good time to need a new one..._

He found it highly disconcerting to be walking the "legged ship's" decks as an ally; even stranger was the notion that he would shortly be flying to protect, rather than destroy, the mighty mobile assault ship. _But maybe... maybe now, I'll finally understand why Falcon seems to attached to these people..._

While Dearka dashed for the repaired Buster, Ken made a beeline for his own Preybird, where Mu was already waiting. He leapt in, closed the pilot module and outer hatch, and keyed his intercom. "You ready, Mu?" the ace called.

"You got it, little brother," Mu replied. "Glad you could make it. By the way, did that ZAFT pilot...?"

"Yeah," Ken acknowledged. "Dearka saw the... urgency of the situation, and he's getting ready to launch now. So we're all set."

"Roger that." The Hawk hesitated. "But, ah, Falcon... shouldn't we take the time to recharge first?"

The ace barked a harsh, humorless laugh. "No need, Mu; Preybird doesn't operate on conventional batteries. Instead, it's the first mobile suit powered by a nuclear fission reactor."

Mu stiffened. "A nuclear reactor? But... the N-jammers make that impossible..."

"They did," was the grim response. "Unfortunately, it seems ZAFT finally made the necessary breakthrough to create the Neutron-jammer canceler. If the Earth Forces get their hands on that data, the PLANTs are doomed... and as it is, the Revolution may yet be lost thanks to these cursed devices." Ken shook himself. "We can discuss that later," he went on, his usual calm detachment back in place. "For now, we need to make sure Headquarters doesn't burn us all to a crisp."

"Yeah..."

Over in the Buster, Dearka finished his preparations, and tentatively keyed a radio link with the Bridge. "This is Dearka Elsman, in the Buster," he said cautiously. "I'm ready to launch."

The face that appeared on his screen startled him. _"Roger that, Buster,"_ Mir told him; she looked very nearly as surprised to see him as he was to see her. _"You're... uh, you're clear for launch."_

"Thanks." The girl's hesitancy didn't really surprise him; he figured _he_ wouldn't comfortable here for awhile yet, so he couldn't expect anyone else to be used to it yet.

Though Dearka was sure he'd have plenty of time _to_ get used to it; Falcon might be right that this was the best -no, the _only-_ course of action he could take, under the circumstances, but it was unlikely ZAFT would think the same. _The minute I head out there,_ he thought sadly, _I'll have burned my bridges. I can't go back... so I guess I'll just have to make sure my new home stays intact._

His screen lit up again, and Ken's narrow-visored face appeared. "Ready, Dearka?"

"Uh, yeah..." Dearka hesitated. "By the way, Falcon; that girl, from the Infirmary...?"

The ace smiled (though Dearka couldn't see it through his helmet). "You didn't know that Miriallia happens to be in charge of mobile suit operations, did you? Well, get used to it, amigo; I think you'll be here for awhile."

"Yeah..." The Buster's pilot gripped his controls tightly as the machine entered the catapult. "Dearka Elsman, Buster launching!"

Preybird moved swiftly into the port catapult. "Here we go again," Ken murmured. "I just hope we're in time... I really hate Cyclops systems..."

"Yeah," Mu agreed. "But with this new suit of yours, we should be okay. I gotta say, I've never seen anything like it."

"Nor will you again," the ace told him. "Preybird is specifically designed to dominate the battlefield; the technical term my people and I came up with is 'space superiority' mobile suit. It fits with my tactical philosophy: seek out a single target, and destroy it as quickly, efficiently, and massively as possible."

"Overpower, overwhelm," the Hawk murmured. "That's how one of my teammates in the Zeros referred to your fighting. You'd disperse your people in teams of two to attack specific targets, and then you'd bring them all together again in one massive assault on the main objective."

"Precisely. Preybird is the 'overpower' half of the equation; 'overwhelm' comes in the form of a couple of other projects my people have going up in the PLANTs." Ken smiled to himself. "The real war is about to begin, Mu; the shadow war we've fought so far ends today. Then... Shiva comes into its own." Preybird connected to the catapult, and he gripped his flight sticks. "Bridge, this is the Grimaldi Falcon. ZGMF-X00A Preybird, launching!"

* * *

Outside JOSHUA Base, Alaska

* * *

Earth Forces warships were still exploding at regular intervals, while battles tank fought valiant -and largely futile- engagements with BuCUEs and ZuOOTs, trying their best to stop the ZAFT forces from breaking into Alaska Base itself. 

Ken viewed the battle with sadness. _This would be a clear-cut victory for us... if it weren't for the Cyclops. Those bastards... and because of Patrick's madness, I have to add to the death toll myself..._

"Hey," Mu said sharply. "Pull it together, Falcon; don't space out on me now. I don't know how to fly this thing, remember?"

"Actually," the ace told him, lifting Preybird into the sky, "there's a Natural-adapted OS stored in the computers. If you need to take over, for whatever reason, just use that."

"Got it. But for now..."

"For now, we deal with the situation at hand." Ken drew the mighty Gerbera Straight, and raced toward the ZAFT formations.

Below, Dearka had landed on the _Archangel_'s aft deck, and was getting ready to provide rear fire support. _Here we go,_ he thought grimly. _All those machines are ZAFT, yet I'm about to fire on them... Say, isn't that...?_ His thoughts shifted directions as he caught sight of a blue and gold Skygrasper firing a hyper-impulse cannon into a CGUE's Guul.

He keyed his radio, a reluctant smile on his face. "Hey, is that you, Miss Sophia?"

Sophia blinked; only one person had ever called her that. "Dearka Elsman? Yeah, it's me; but what are _you_ doing out here? Don't tell me you escaped."

Dearka chuckled. "Didn't you hear? I'm on your side now; Falcon... convinced me that we need to get out of here."

She shook her head in bemusement. "Right... Well, anyway, don't call me 'Miss', okay? Commander, or Kestrel, will do fine; or even Sophia. Falcon's convinced _me_ that I may've been wrong about you."

Buster raised its gun launcher in salute. "Good thing we're not trying to kill each other, then. Good luck out there... Sophia."

"Same to you, Dearka." The Skygrasper waggled its wings, then darted away, searching for more targets.

Dearka turned his attention back to the ZAFT units, and his face tightened, seeing the Duel. _Yzak...am I gonna have to fight _you, _too?_

At least Yzak's machine was too far away for it to be likely he'd noticed the Buster yet...

* * *

Preybird might've been intended to deal with only one target at a time, but with Mu controlling the DRAGOON system independently, Ken was free to direct his attention to targets of his own. His massive blade was held in both hands, and with the machine's special programming, unique frame, and his own well-honed skills with a katana, the weapon was utterly lethal. 

He was simultaneously listening in on ZAFT channels, and he noted one transmission with some amusement. "What _is_ that thing?" a GINN pilot was wondering. "It doesn't _look_ like one of ours... Have the Earth Forces put out a new model?"

The GINN in question was coming right for the powerful new machine, and it swung its own heavy blade in an attempt to bisect Preybird... but Ken had other ideas.

With a shriek of protesting metal, the Gerbera Straight blocked the GINN's weapon... and cut right through it, shearing it away just above the hilt. Without even allowing the pilot time to react to the loss, Preybird's blade came back down, passing through armor as though it didn't exist, and cleanly removing the top of the torso.

Whether the pilot survived the subsequent explosion or not was open to question, but an observer might've thought it unlikely... and would've been perplexed by the red fluid that sprayed through the air.

Ken muttered something under his breath, and jerked Preybird away from the blood-like mist. "Hydraulic fluid," he muttered to himself. "I don't want _that_ on us; might over-lubricate the joints..."

Spinning around, the Gerbera Straight, passed through DINN from top to bottom, spitting sparks and wrecked components everywhere.

Mu shook his head, targeting a GINN with the DRAGOON system. "You know, Falcon," he remarked (as he spoke, emerald darts spitted the machine and its Guul, boring holes edged with melted metal before it all exploded), "I didn't think a mobile suit could move this smoothly. Even Strike and Raptor didn't, and they were the most advanced models out there."

"Preybird has a new type of frame," Ken informed him, "utilizing artificial muscle tissue and macromolecular nerve fibers to create a system remarkably like a human body's joints. It produces unprecedented freedom of movement... and, just incidentally, prevents the sort of thing that knocked Raptor out of the sky."

"Should've known there was more to this thing than met the eye," the Hawk murmured. "Wouldn't be like you not to include a few- Falcon!"

Ken's gaze whipped around just in time to see something he'd missed, in his utter concentration on removing as many enemies from the equation as possible: _Archangel_ was falling from the sky, courtesy of a concerted attack by several GINNs and a pair of CGUEs. And now one of those GINN's was lining up for a shot at the _Archangel_'s Bridge...

Time almost seemed to stop for an instant. Ken knew the ship couldn't possibly evade in time; and Sophia was too far away to help, while Buster's aim was blocked by the ship itself.

And he himself, like an idiot, and been caught too far away himself. _Idiot! You forgot to prioritize... that's what happens when you allow yourself to succumb to tunnel vision..._

He knew he wouldn't make it in; even the DRAGOON system couldn't do it in the second they had before the GINN fired. Nonetheless, one hand released the Gerbera Straight, began reaching for a beam rifle... and two pairs of eyes suddenly went wide and clear, with even clearer minds behind them.

It still wasn't enough, and the GINN's finger began to tighten. Ken could imagine the scene on the Bridge, as people important to him prepared for death...

A streak of emerald split the heavens, shearing through the barrel of the GINN's machine gun like a knife through melted butter.

The GINN pilot looked up, and so did Ken; and both of them saw the black, white, and blue mobile suit, still fiery from reentry heat, descending from the sky. A hand reached down, snatched out a beam saber, and a blade of frozen fire slashed down through the GINN's head.

Before a number of astonished eyes, ZGMF-X10A Freedom rose into the air, spread its wings, and hovered before the _Archangel_'s Bridge like a guardian angel.

* * *

Author's note: Operation Spit Break has commenced, and Ken, Mu, and Flay, after briefly departing the _Archangel,_ have returned. Preybird has begun to show its true power... and now Freedom has arrived on the scene. What might those two machines -and pilots- accomplish together? 

Yes, yes, I know; this update took a little longer than I expected. Well, it was also almost four pages longer than average, and I managed to get a little distracted. I've finally been able to try Gundam SEED: Never Ending Tomorrow, and I have to say that the delay in updating was worth it. There might be a few more MSV cameos than I'd originally anticipated...

Well, next chapter _should_ be up a little faster (and yes, I know you've all heard that before; but this time I really mean it). But for the nonce, let me know how this one was. -Solid Shark


	28. Chapter 28: Blade Reforged

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel_, Bridge, May 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

The battle had been going poorly, despite the timely intervention of Ken's awesomely-powerful ZGMF-X00A Preybird. The Alliance forces were still being blown away, even as Preybird took out a number of opponents all by itself... and then it was _Archangel_'s turn.

"Incoming GINNs and CGUEs, Captain!" Sai called out. "We can't get a targeting solution!"

"Preybird and the Skygrasper cannot assist," Natarle chimed in. "Buster does not have a clear field of fire; we can't-"

An explosion rocked the ship, and Neumann struggled with the helm. "Levitators have been hit!" he bit out through clenched teeth. "We can't maintain lift!"

Murrue gritted her teeth. "Stop those machines any way you can!" she ordered, holding on tight as _Archangel_ dropped from the sky. "We've come this far; we can't let it end here."

At the fire control console, Pal frantically tapped in commands, seeking any way that the incoming mobile suits could be stopped. For all _Archangel_'s tremendous firepower, it did no good at all if they couldn't even bring the weapons to bear...

Then something swooped down in front of the Bridge's forward viewport, and time seemed to slow. Sai and Mir recoiled, Kuzzey cried out and tried to make a run for the elevator, and Murrue's eyes went wide, then narrow with determination and defiance, as a solitary GINN raised its machine gun to fire right through the transparent viewport...

_So it ends, here,_ the Captain thought, defiant to the end. _But our pilots will live on; we won't have died in-_

A streak of emerald light split the heavens... and the machine gun. The weapon suddenly ended in a smoking, melted stump... and a winged shape hurtled down out of the sky, swung a beam of frozen fire through the GINN's head, and pulled up sharply. Wings spread, red sparkles spreading from the verniers, it was like a guardian angel come to rescue them.

Through her confusion, Murrue saw the Preybird swoop around in a belated attempt to help, coming to a rest right in front of the newcomer. From the way his machine was behaving, she assumed Ken had expected the new machine's arrival, or at least has known of the possibility.

Then a voice came over the speakers. _"Attention,_ Archangel_; this is Kira Yamato. Are you all right?"_

Murrue's eyes widened. "K-Kira...? But-"

Kuzzey sank back into his seat, utterly bemused. "But... Kira's..."

"Kira's... alive?" Mir whispered.

"It _is_ Kira!" Sai was happier than he'd been in awhile, despite his old conflicts with Kira over Flay. _If he's alive, then..._

Suddenly, the moment was shattered by Preybird's sudden movement. _"Liar!"_ Ken shouted... and raised both beam rifles into firing position.

* * *

Outside JOSHUA Base, Alaska

* * *

Mu's eyes went wide, first at the identity of the Freedom's pilot, then at his brother's actions. "Ken, what are you-"

"You're a liar," the ace said again, harshly. "Kira Yamato is _dead,_ you understand? You expect me to fall for a trick like that?"

In Freedom's cockpit, Kira Yamato swallowed; this was not the reception he'd expected, though on further reflection he should probably have anticipated it. _He's paranoid... and he trusts his former comrades so little he's willing to believe anything about them, even that they could fake bringing me back..._

He keyed his radio again. "Ken, please; it's me, okay? It really is."

"Liar," Ken repeated yet again. "I watched Kira Yamato die, you understand? I watched him die! And if Patrick thinks this kind of trick is going to work on me, he's even crazier than I thought."

Mu frowned. "Come on, Falcon, how could it be a trick? They don't even know who the Strike's pilot was; you know that."

Kira thought fast. _Of course..._ "Ken," he said again, "it _is_ me. I was helped by... by a mutual friend, along with one of your people. And... Nicol is doing fine."

Ken jerked. _Nicol? But... the only way ZAFT could even know that he's alive is if... if Sparky were caught. And if he _had _been, there'd have been sufficient uproar for even the Earth Forces to hear about it..._

_So it _is _Kira..._

"It's... good to see you, amigo," the ace said at last. "I thought you were dead."

"Almost," Kira allowed, relieved; from what he'd seen on the way in, Preybird was even more formidable than he'd thought. Tangling with it was _not_ high on his list of things to do. "But I got help, including your people." He looked back at the _Archangel._ "Captain, please withdraw; I'll cover you."

_"We know,"_ Murrue said, tension in her voice, _"but... There's a Cyclops beneath Headquarters. They... they tricked us! All of this was just a trap, in order to take out the ZAFT forces! They used us as bait!"_

Kira's fists clenched. _Those bastards... I guess I got back here just in time..._ "All right, I understand," he told her. "I'll clear a path for you. Meanwhile, please withdraw!"

_"We will,"_ she said gratefully. _"Are you sure you can handle this?"_

He smiled. "I'll be fine, Captain." Then, as his eyes went wide and clear, he turned back to the Preybird. "Ken, help me out here, will you?"

To his surprise, the ace actually smiled. "You got it, amigo; you do your thing, and I'll take out anything that gets in my way. Mu, let's get back to work."

"Roger that," the Hawk agreed. "Buster?"

Kira blinked. _The Buster? Huh?_

Dearka hesitated. "I, uh... I've got the rear covered. Don't worry about it."

"If you're sure... then let's go."

Preybird and Freedom spun back toward the enemy forces, and opened fire with a barrage of four rail cannons, three beam rifles, a pair of plasma cannons, and ten remote laser units with a total of forty beam emitters.

The result was a slaughter. Kira's targets went down with heads and limbs ripped away, while anything targeted by Preybird's overwhelming firepower simply ceased to exist... since, while Kira allocating a single shot to each mobile suit, Ken and Mu targeted only a small number, which were simply torn apart or converted to energy by the massive assault.

"You know, Falcon," Mu remarked, directing the DRAGOON units to a new target, "when all this is over, I think you need to finally tell us all what's going on."

Ken drew the Gerbera Straight. "I know, Mu," he said softly. "I know."

* * *

Yzak Joule, seeing the sudden eruption of weapons' fire from the cockpit of his Duel, cursed incredulously. "What in the world just happened?" he demanded. "What could've done this?"

He saw first the new machine, the Freedom (which he didn't recognize, given its highly-classified nature)... and then he spotted the crimson, gray, and black mobile suit that was currently causing a GINN to be separated into three pieces.

Yzak's mouth opened in a wordless snarl. He remembered that machine; the way it had taken him apart, outside Orb. How it had humiliated him... and now he had a chance to make another try against it.

Feeding more power to his Guul's thrusters, he powered toward the interloper, intent on blasting it to bits. "You're not getting away today, stranger," he whispered coldly. "Today, _you're_ the one going down..."

Then his radio came alive. _"Attention, all ZAFT and Earth Alliance forces! Please, cease fighting and withdraw from this area immediately! If you don't the Cyclops system installed beneath the base will activate and destroy you all! Repeat, all ZAFT and Earth Alliance forces, please cease fighting and withdraw from this area immediately!"_

"I'm not falling for that," Yzak called angrily. "Think I'm a fool?"

Down below, on the _Archangel_'s deck, Dearka was frozen with indecision. He'd agreed to fight, since it was his only chance for survival -and likely the only chance for those he'd be firing upon, as well- yet he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. _I have to... but I can't... There's gotta be another way... What am I supposed to _do?

Now, though, he saw the Duel, and realized that his old comrade Yzak was out here, as well... and if he fought as he usually did, he'd soon be dead, killed by the Cyclops. The only way to save him -and stop him from making a fatal attempt to take on Preybird- would be... _I have to,_ Dearka thought despairingly. _If I don't shoot, he won't make it..._

His finger tightened on the trigger.

Yzak recoiled in surprise, seeing that double burst of fire come at him. A gun launcher, and a beam rifle... that meant... "The Buster!" he shouted, now utterly enraged. "You stinking Natural! I'll make you pay for using Dearka's machine!" Forgetting the Preybird altogether, he swooped down on the _Archangel_, intent on avenging Dearka... and then a voice came over the radio.

"Yzak, stop!" Dearka shouted, firing a salvo of missiles. "Don't make me do this!"

The Duel stopped, shuddering to a halt in the air. "D-Dearka..." Yzak whispered. "What the... what are you doing?" _It can't be! Dearka would _never _betray us!_

"What I have to do," Buster's pilot replied. "Don't you get it? The Freedom's pilot wasn't lying."

"What are you doing fighting for the legged ship, Dearka?" Yzak demanded. "Even if there _is_ a Cyclops, that's no excuse-"

"We can discuss reasons for fighting later, Yzak!" Dearka snapped back. "But let me tell _you_ something: Commander Le Creuset already knows about the Cyclops. So why haven't you been recalled? Why hasn't he _warned_ anyone? Ask yourself that! Why would he do that?"

Yzak froze, torn between rage and a sense of betrayal, confusion, and disbelief. "That can't be right-"

Suddenly, Preybird was right in front of him, hovering between Yzak and the Buster. "Dearka," Ken called, "are you having any luck with this guy?"

Dearka shook his head. "Not yet; I think he's thinking about it, but... Falcon," he said carefully, "please don't kill him, all right? He doesn't know what he's doing..."

"Never had any intention of killing him, amigo," the ace assured him. "Yzak Joule, along with the rest of his old team, is far too valuable."

Yzak's doubts were temporarily shoved aside, now that he had a genuine target in his sights... and he'd caught the exchange between the two pilots. "So it's you, DiFalco!" he snarled. "I should've known you were behind it all along! Athrun was right; your people can't be trusted anymore!"

"Bingo," Ken said agreeably.

In the rear module, Mu raised an eyebrow. "Want me to cut this guy down to size, bro?"

Dearka blinked. _Bro?_

"Nah; I've got him, Mu." Ken sheathed the massive Gerbera Straight -useless against Phase-shift- and drew one of the Lacerta beam sabers stored above the rail cannons. Igniting the blade of scarlet fire, he uttered his hunting call.

Yzak snarled again, and drew a blade of his own.

Dearka looked away; he wasn't sure he wanted to see this.

He needn't have worried. Preybird had disabled all four captured G-weapons once before in thirty seconds flat; against just one, with the Hyper Berserker in the cockpit, it was no contest.

By the time the Duel's saber flashed down, its target was no longer there, and Yzak looked around in confusion. "Where'd you-!"

A fiery blade licked out from behind, piercing the Shiva railgun on Duel's right shoulder, spattering shrapnel and molten metal everywhere. Then it swept around, drew back, and stabbed directly through the left shoulder from behind; the resulting hole drilled clear through, boring through electronics, wiring... and the missile pod in the assault shroud. The entire arm practically exploded, fragments flying in all directions.

Yzak roared in rage and frustration, and tried to spin around, bringing his rifle to bear. He even managed to get off a shot... which was absolutely useless against the Grimaldi Falcon's demonic creation.

The glowing light-wave barrier caught the emerald dart, harmlessly dissipating it. If mobile suits had expressions, Preybird would've sneered contemptuously... as Ken did, before lifting his blade again, slashing through the Duel's right arm at the elbow in a shower of sparks, and sweeping it low through the Duel's knees, severing connections like a hot knife through butter.

And, just as an encore, a single DRAGOON unit swept in and poured green energy into the Guul, turning it to molten metal.

Duel began to fall from the sky. "You'll pay for this, DiFalco!" he shouted in rage. "Just like the Strike pilot, you're going down!"

"Not if he keeps trying to fight Preybird with an old-style G-weapon," Mu remarked dryly. "So, what are you going to do with him now, Falcon?"

Instead of answering directly, the ace keyed his radio. "Kira," he called, "the Duel is down for the count; but I'd rather not just leave him behind this time. Can you pick him up?"

Kira blinked. "Uh, sure," he agreed, and momentarily broke off his deluge of fire. _I don't know what he's up to,_ he thought, bringing the Freedom around, _but knowing Ken, he's got something up his sleeve..._

Mu was having similar thoughts, but they led to something else when his stomach began complaining. _Note to self,_ he thought. _Never, ever fly with a pilot who pulls maneuvers that make you want to throw up. Vomiting in your helmet is _not _conducive to good combat performance._

Up front he heard what might've been a chuckle; evidently, Ken found the torrent of curses Yzak was screaming at the Freedom amusing. "Good thing I blasted the Duel's limbs off," he remarked, feeding power to the verniers. "Otherwise, Kira would have quite a time bringing him in."

"Out of curiosity," Mu began, "why _are _you having Kira bring in the Duel? I thought you'd be just as happy letting him go."

"Things are coming to a head, Mu," the ace replied. "This battle is the last act of the war we've been fighting; the true conflict is about to begin, and to fight it, we need all the forces we can get. I already have a substantial force building in the PLANTs, but pilots of Yzak Joule's caliber don't grow on trees."

Having exhausted his quota of words for approximately the next ten minutes, Ken wrenched Preybird around in a sickeningly-fast turn, and blazed back into the melee.

_He's incredible,_ Mu thought, watching the battle they swirled through. _If I wasn't Berserker-capable myself, I doubt I could keep up with this guy..._ In his Hyper Berserker state, Ken seemed to be keeping track of the movements of literally every mobile suit in the battle. He'd pick a target near the opposite edge of the furball, track it as he fought his way there, and then arrange to arrive at a spot at the same instant as his target.

_How does he do it? How can a human mind, even that of a Coordinator, keep track of it all?_

Mu didn't know... but he did know he was glad of it, even if it meant he could no longer effectively use the rail cannons; Preybird was moving so fast that only the DRAGOON system, which operated independently from the machine, could be accurately aimed by the gunner... though he suspected Ken didn't really need a gunner at all.

_Probably just wants to make sure everything works right first,_ he decided. _This is his first pitched battle flying it, after all._

Mu's thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of something unfamiliar in his targeting displays. "Falcon," he called, "we've got something else out here; I don't recognize it."

Ken took one look at the data his brother shunted onto his displays, and raised an eyebrow. The machine was gold overall, with the general look of a GINN or CGUE-series machine (stereotypical monoeye sensor and crest), but with the addition of some kind of backpack, a Lupus beam rifle, Xiphias rail cannons, and Lacerta beam sabers.

"It's a new model," he reported after a moment. "One of the prototypes, judging from the weaponry; not to mention the fact that it hasn't gone into production yet. It's a ZGMF-600 GuAIZ, in this case an Experimental Firearms model. A handful were created to test the spin-off weapons from the ZGMF-X00A project; weapons intended to become part of the Freedom and X09A Justice. They're not nuclear-powered, so I'm guessing that Guul has an attached power generator to supply energy for those weapons."

Mu nodded to himself. "Any idea who's piloting it?"

"One sure way to find out." Without further ado, Ken opened his mouth, and screamed.

The GuAIZ instantly spun around to face them, and a masked visage appeared in a display window on each module wall. "There you are, Falcon," Victor Tempest, alias Huckebein the Raven, greeted them. "It's been too long since we had a set-to. Ready to die, Commander?"

Ken rolled his eye. "Victor, taking on Preybird with a GuAIZ is suicidal; didn't you see the way I took apart the Duel a minute ago?"

Huckebein laughed. "Come now, Falcon, you know I'm a better pilot than that hothead Joule. Besides, my GuAIZ has better weapons than the Duel."

Mu muted the transmitter. "Want me to take him out, Falcon? Shouldn't be a problem, with the DRAGOONs."

Ken shook his head. "Negative, Mu. We'll take him down, certainly; but right now, he's more useful alive. My old student causes discord in ZAFT, which is much to be desired at this time..." As usual, he chose not to explain himself; but the Hawk rather thought that in this case, it was more a matter of being too busy than anything else.

Huckebein, meanwhile, had clearly decided there was no more point in talking, and opened fire with his Lupus... and then, to Ken's surprise, jumped off his Guul, using the subflight lifter alone.

Mu cursed. "I thought you said that thing wasn't nuclear-powered," he grunted, using a DRAGOON unit's fire to cancel out the incoming shot.

"It shouldn't be," Ken replied, raising the light-wave shield to intercept the next shot. "On the other hand, Huckebein _is_ apparently tasked with taking me down; that probably gives him considerable influence into how his machines are customized."

"Wonderful. Can we still take him?"

The ace shot him a look of disgust. "Mu, Preybird was designed to be superior to everything on the battlefield, including the Freedom itself. A GuAIZ, even equipped with a nuclear reactor, isn't going to be much of a threat to us."

Tempest, of course, clearly thought otherwise. Having decided that his rifle wasn't going to do much good, he ignited a saber; and with a snarl, he brought it down in an overhand chop directed at taking out Preybird's merely-physical Gerbera Straight.

His surprised oath when the huge katana easily parried the stroke provoked a low laugh from Ken. "Come on, Raven, are you really that surprised? You knew material like this existed."

"The beam deflection blade, Gerbera Straight," Huckebein hissed. "But the only blades created of that metal, with the anti-beam coating, were ours, and the Junk Guilder Lowe Guele's..."

"And Lowe happens to be a friend of mine," the ace informed him, "and Tom -you remember him, of course- is one of the few capable of forging a blade of that metal." A thin smile appeared on his face, behind his helmet. "And now, Victor, I suggest you leave me alone." In a flash, he drew back the Gerbera Straight...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"We're almost to the edge of the ten-kilometer radius, Captain," Neumann reported. "Another minute or less, at current speed."

Murrue nodded. "Thank you, Ensign," she said tersely; they weren't out of the woods yet. "Crewman Haw, order Sophia to return; I think Freedom and Preybird can handle matters from here."

"Yes, Ma'am," Mir responded. "Commander Kestrel-" it was simpler to refer to her by her callsign, under the circumstances "-please return to the ship at once; enemy opposition appears to be decreasing, and we're nearly out of the battle area."

_"Roger that,"_ Sophia replied. _"On my way in."_

"Chief Murdoch reports X102 Duel is secured in the hangar, Captain," Kuzzey reported. "Armed guards are standing by."

_"That won't be necessary,"_ Dearka called over the radio. _"I'm on my way back in; let me handle it, please."_

Murrue hesitated, unsure of how far she could trust the young pilot. On the one hand, he had but recently been their enemy; but on the other... _On the other, Ken trusts him. That's good enough._

"Very well, Mr. Elsman. But please hurry."

_"Roger that."_

She permitted herself to relax for a moment; but instantly tensed again when Sai called out, "Radiation surge! The Cyclops has been activated!"

Murrue reacted without hesitation. "Maximum thrust! _Get us out of here!"_

* * *

Outside JOSHUA Base, Alaska

* * *

Ken heard the report, and moved even faster.

The Gerbera Straight slashed through a rapid combination, proving Preybird's superiority over conventional mobile suits by swiftly cutting both arms and legs off Huckebein's GuAIZ, before delivering a kick that propelled him toward his own forces. "I don't have time to deal with you, Victor!" Ignoring Huckebein's shouted demands to finish the job, he spun Preybird around.

"What now, Falcon?" Mu demanded. "Shouldn't we get out of here?"

"In a minute." The ace had spotted a large ZAFT formation coming directly at them in a last-ditch attack, and he didn't have time to deal with them one by one. "Mu, recall the DRAGOON units, and initiate satellite laser-lock, stat."

Mu found the appropriate controls, and began entering the commands. But... "Just what on earth _is_ this system, brother?"

"You'll see in a moment."

Kira was the first to see what Ken was up to, and those on the _Archangel_'s Bridge weren't far behind. A narrow red beam shot from Preybird's communications antenna, streaking all the way into orbit... and then a much larger cylinder of light came back along the laserlink's path. It engulfed the Preybird, and where it touched the black wings, their surfaces glowed, charging with immense power.

_What _is _that?_ Kira wondered. _I've never seen anything like it..._

The cannons between the wings, where the plasma cannons would be on the Freedom, snapped into place over the Preybird's shoulders, while the wings themselves spread to provide added lift and stability. The cannon muzzles began to glow...

In Preybird's cockpit, Ken's eye narrowed. "Laser-lock achieved; twin satellite cannon fully charged. Fire when ready."

Still uncertain of what exactly was about to happen, Mu squeezed the triggers on his control sticks.

Twin columns of red-orange fire blazed from the cannons, met, and expanded exponentially. A torrent of destructive energy many times the size of Preybird itself met the incoming ZAFT submarines and mobile suits, and where it touched, nothing survived. Those on the fringes of the tremendous energy release were ripped apart, while those closer to the center were either converted to hydrogen or simply suffered total matter-energy conversion.

Kira, Mu, and Murrue all stared at the cataclysmic release of energy. All three had known of Preybird's tremendous power, but the beam that it had just unleashed...

_Nothing short of the Lohengrins themselves could match that,_ Murrue thought numbly. _He wasn't kidding when he said he'd created a machine to dominate the battlefield... but how did he _do _that?_

But now the radiation from the Cyclops was rapidly approaching, and there was no more time to marvel. Most of the ZAFT forces -those that had survived Ken's final assault, at any rate- had already gotten clear, and now the _Archangel_ was nearly out of danger herself, as was Freedom. But Preybird, thanks to its own dallying to strike down its pursuers, was lagging behind... and then it got worse.

One moment, Ken was confidently guiding his machine away from the Cyclops, coolly certain that he could outrun it. The next, he felt something seize up in his chest, and his eye widened. _No! Not now!_ His eye dropped to his displays, and saw a malfunction warning... a malfunction of the very power systems that were keeping him alive.

Mu jerked, startled, as he saw his brother suddenly heave bolt upright, clutching his chest and gasping. "Falcon! Falcon, what's wrong?"

Ken struggled to speak. "My... my heart..." he gasped. "I... I can't..." He gathered his strength; there was something he _needed_ to say. "Natural OS... Code Tango Zulu Sigma Natural..." His eye closed, and his voice grew weaker. "Can't... can't..."

He slumped over his controls.

Mu felt his stomach clench, but he had something he needed to do. "Can't help him if we get caught by that Cyclops," he muttered, and entered the code as instructed. Immediately, his controls came alive, and he applied all power to thrusters.

Nearly caught by the radiation, Preybird slipped beyond the Cyclops' range, and smashed down onto a small island... while behind it, Joint Operational Supreme Headquarters-Alaska vanished in a dome of fire, along with virtually the entire Eurasian fleet... and over half of ZAFT's planet-based fighting strength.

* * *

Small Island, Ten Kilometers From JOSHUA, Alaska

* * *

_Too many things have been happening today,_ Murrue thought absently, walking quickly out the main airlock with practically the entire crew at her heels. _First ZAFT attacks, then Headquarters betrays us, then Kira returns form the dead... and now all this._

Freedom and Preybird had landed side by side on the island, though Preybird was kneeling in the small trench created by its rough impact. Kira, wearing a ZAFT flightsuit, was just getting out of Freedom... while Mu, to Murrue's sudden apprehension, was carrying a limp Ken out of Preybird.

She picked up her pace, and was soon running toward the pair; and Kira, seeing this, was confused. _Huh; I thought they'd be more surprised to see me... Wait a second!_ That was when he realized what was going on, and started heading over himself.

Bringing up the rear were Dearka and a very surly Yzak, who could not yet see what was going on. "You'd better have a good explanation for all this, Dearka," Duel's pilot said darkly. "It looks to _me_ like you've committed treason... and if you expect me to forgive you, you'd _better_ have a good reason for all this."

Dearka shrugged. "Yzak, I don't understand all of this yet myself. But I _do_ know that there was a Cyclops... and Commander Le Creuset obviously didn't warn anybody about it. Don't you think that's enough evidence for us to at least hear Falcon out?"

Yzak nodded unwillingly. "I'll hear him out," he muttered. "But... wait a minute, what's going on over there? It looks like he's..."

Instantly, Dearka started running. "Wait here!" he told his fellow pilot, and raced toward Preybird. "Let me through!" he shouted. "I know what's wrong, and if I don't do something, he's dead!"

_That_ was enough to clear him a path, and Mu set the unconscious ace down on the ground, as gently as he could. "He's not breathing," he said quietly, voice grim. "His heart stopped, too."

Dearka knelt at Ken's side. "That idiot," he muttered. "That arrogant jackass... he _never_ tells the docs about it when he gets reassigned... always waits for it to happen again..." He trailed off into indistinct muttering, and began hurriedly opening the Falcon's flightsuit.

Murrue knelt opposite of him. "What's wrong with him?" she asked urgently. "What did this to him?"

Yzak walked up. "You've heard he was injured at Endymion, right?" he questioned, wondering as he did why he was volunteering information. _Oh, why not; it's nothing Dearka won't tell them anyway..._ "Well," he went on, "when the Cyclops damaged his mobile suit, something in his cockpit exploded; debris from it tore into him from behind, and took out his heart and one lung."

"Yeah," Dearka concurred. "He was clinically dead for a little while after, and officially listed KIA until they decided he might live after all. He had to get prosthetics... but they're an early generation." Pulling aside part of Ken's shirt, he turned his attention to the youth's belt, and pulled out a power pack. "Usually, they run off his body's bio-electric field... but in the heat of battle, that isn't enough. So he either plugs it into portable power packs, or directly into his mobile suit's power supply."

Sophia joined the little group. "I had no idea..."

He shrugged, jacking the power pack's cable into the chestplate's socket. "Like I said, he's an idiot; never tells anybody about it until it throws him in anaphylactic shock, like now. There," he added, completing the connection. "That should do it."

The next few moments, as the compact battery poured energy into Ken's still body, were tense. Mu's face tightened imperceptibly, Yzak scowled, Sophia held her breath, and Murrue simply looked very worried. _Come on, Ken... you have to pull through..._

At last, touching his wrist, Murrue felt a pulse begin, and then grow in strength. Breath began to fill natural and prosthetic lung alike, and the ace coughed.

Ken's visible eye opened, and he found himself looking into Murrue's concerned eyes. "Hey," he said weakly, with the slightest trace of an equally-weak smile. "Guess it happened again, huh... Sorry if I caused a stir; didn't mean to worry anybody..."

She smiled back at him, enormously relieved. "Elsman's right, you know," she told him. "You _are_ an idiot... but I'm glad you're okay."

Sophia broke out in a grin. "You'd better be glad you're alive, Falcon," she told her brother. "If you'd gotten killed on me, so soon after we finally started getting along, I wouldn't have been happy."

Ken rolled his eye. "Look, I'm flattered... but shouldn't you all be thinking about someone else, like the guy who just came back from the dead to save all our hides?"

Kira, at that moment, was just walking over to them. "I'm glad you're safe, Ken," he said, and smiled. "I guess I made it just in time, didn't I?"

Murrue turned to face him. "So... it's really you, Kira?" she whispered.

He nodded. "Yeah, Captain. It's me."

That simple statement provoked cheers from the crew (not including Flay, who was still in her quarters, unaware that the battle was even over yet), and his fellow survivors from Heliopolis came over to him. "Kira!" Mir said simply, tears in her eyes. "I can't believe you're back!"

Sai managed a smile himself. "I'm glad... you're alive, Kira."

Kira nodded. "Thank you, Sai."

Behind him, Yzak's scowl deepened. "Somebody mind telling me what's going on?" he demanded. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

Dearka shrugged. "Beats me; he wasn't with the _Archangel_ before now, at least not while I was... Wait a second." He turned to the prostrate ace. "Falcon, is that...?"

Ken nodded. "That's right, Dearka. Yzak, this fellow happens to be Kira Yamato. I'm sure the name means nothing to you... but he happens to be Athrun's best friend." He paused. "And you _do_ know him, actually, even if you've never met face-to-face, You see, he was the Strike pilot."

Yzak jerked. _This... this is...!_ "Dearka," he said tightly (and quietly, lest he get an angry mob to try to rip him apart), "can you give me one reason why I shouldn't kill this guy, right now?"

"Two, actually," Dearka said dryly. "One: a few dozen former Earth Alliance personnel would beat you to death before you got near him. And second... Nicol's alive."

The silver-haired pilot's gaze snapped to him. _"What?_ You're kidding..."

"No, I'm not; I have it directly from Leanne Eldridge, Yzak. Remember her? Nicol's cousin? She may be one of Falcon's loyal minions, but if Nicol really _were_ dead, I don't think she'd be very happy about it."

That, Yzak had to concede, was certainly true; which gave him something else to think about.

By now, Kira had turned back to Murrue. "Well," he said with a smile, "I guess you guys have a few million questions to ask me, don't you?"

"At least," she agreed. "Like... what's with the flightsuit?"

"Were you with ZAFT?" Mu questioned, eyes narrow.

Surprisingly, it was Ken who answered. "No," he said, slowly getting to his feet. "No, you weren't were you, Kira? Those feathers..."

With a start, Murrue realized the ace was right: there _were_ a pair of feathers on the flightsuit's collar; gray feathers...

Just like those that adorned Ken's helmet.

"The Gray Demons..." she murmured. "So they _are_ still active."

"Yes," Kira acknowledged. "They... helped me out a lot. They helped me get the Freedom, too; apparently, they were ready to seize it at any time, though I don't know why..."

"They were because I ordered it, Kira," Ken informed him. "My contact with them may've been limited the last few months, but it hasn't been nonexistent; I've been preparing for this day for a long time."

Murrue turned to him. "Ken... I think it's about time you explained yourself. You've kept us in the dark about your plans long enough."

"I know. Soon, Murrue; soon."

Satisfied, she turned back to Kira. "Well, speaking of that machine, what should we do with it?"

The young pilot shrugged. "If you're talking about maintenance and resupply, that's not necessary yet. I wasn't hit in the battle... and the Freedom is equipped with a Neutron-jammer canceler."

There were gasps all around at that, most notably from Yzak and Dearka. "So that thing's nuclear-powered?" Pal whispered. "Where'd you get it from? Commander DiFalco's people couldn't have done it alone..."

Kira's expression hardened, and Ken had the distinct feeling he wasn't going to answer... so he decided to do it himself. "How _is_ Lacus, anyway, Kira?" he asked easily.

His protégé froze. "How did you-?"

The ace chuckled. "My XO is her bodyguard, Kira, remember? That, amigo, is _exactly_ how it is that my Demons had such direct control over the Freedom." He raised an eyebrow. "So, how _is_ Lacus?"

Kira shrugged uneasily. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Commander Cooper said something about having to go underground, so..."

"So the real war is about to begin..." Ken nodded pensively.

"Would somebody mind telling me what's going on?" Yzak burst out. "What's all this about nuclear reactors and N-jammer cancellers and all that? Who would've ordered such a thing?"

The Grimaldi Falcon turned to face him. "Yzak," he said quietly, "the NJCs were developed at Patrick Zala's order. According to my people, he deemed it necessary to able to produce nuclear-powered machines, in order to trump the Alliance's G-weapons... and so that something else could be completed."

Yzak looked at the ground, fists clenched. _Just what on earth is going on here? First Commander Le Creuset doesn't warn anybody about the Cyclops, and now I find out that we're circumventing our own anti-nuclear countermeasures... How could Chairman Zala be so _stupid? _If that falls into the hands of the Earth Forces, they'll use nukes again; that _can't _be worth risking!_

At last, he looked up. "I don't know about all this talk of ZAFT betraying you before you betrayed it, Commander DiFalco," he said quietly, "but... I think I'd like to hear what you have to say."

Murrue nodded. "He's right, Ken. It's time we had a little talk about all this."

Ken nodded slowly. "You're right, both of you," he said softly. "I've kept my secrets this long for a purpose; but now it's time to come clean. Look, let's meet on the Bridge in an hour. By then, I should be fully recovered... and then I'll tell you everything." _Or almost everything, anyway; GENESIS is still my burden to bear, and mine alone._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Kira's Quarters

* * *

Kira stepped warily into his quarters, uncertain of exactly what he'd find.

Ken had told him of Flay's transfer off the ship, and his own subsequent rescue and retrieval of her. From what he'd said, it sounded like Flay had, just perhaps, mellowed some; maybe regained a little stability. But still... that left him wondering what kind of reception he'd get.

There was a figure huddled on one of the bunks when he entered, with her head under a pillow; which made it clear exactly who it was. Flay had never been very happy during the battles, after all. In fact, she'd been very, very scared...

"Hi, Flay," Kira said softly.

Flay jerked as though she'd just been electrified, and her head came out into the open in a flash. "K-Kira!" Her eyes were wide as saucers, her face pale, her voice that of someone who'd just seen a ghost. "B-but... but they said... you died..."

He shook his head. "No, Flay. I was badly hurt, but I was rescued; I just came back an hour ago, and helped _Archangel_ escape."

Her eyes filled. "Kira... I'm so glad... you're alive..."

Kira sighed. "It's good to see you, too, Flay. But... we need to talk. There wasn't time before, but now... there are things that need to be said."

Flay stood, and nodded sadly. "I know, Kira. And... I'm sorry. For everything." She looked away. "Before you went out that last time, everything you said... you were right. I... I _was_ using you."

"Why, Flay?" he asked gently.

"Because of my father." She sniffed. "Because of his death... and because of all the things he told me about Coordinators. He said... that they couldn't be trusted..."

Kira nodded. "Ken seems to think he was a member of Blue Cosmos."

Flay shrugged. "That doesn't surprise me," she admitted. "I guess... I guess I always knew. But he _was_ my father, so I believed everything he said... so I believed you'd let him die on purpose. I thought then... that it would be fitting if I used you, a Coordinator, to avenge him, and then to keep you fighting until you... you died." She swallowed. "Actually... I was kind of hoping you and Falcon might kill each other."

He thought back to the various conversations he'd had with the Grimaldi Falcon, to how he'd stated outright that he'd subordinated everything to his goal... and he thought of his own new determination to end the war without further bloodshed.

"That... might've happened," he admitted. "After what Ken did out there today, destroying everything in his way... if I hadn't heard the way he talks, I might've tried to stop him... and it might've killed me." He chuckled, to his own surprise. "No, it _probably_ would've killed me, and _might've_ killed him. I think I'm a little better these days... but if he hit me with some of those weapons he has, it would've been over."

Flay nodded. "I heard something about what his machine can do, when he protected the _Archangel_ on the way to Alaska. But the point is... I thought I wanted that, but when I thought you _were_ dead, I..."

Kira touched her shoulder. "I understand, Flay. Ken told me you... uh, weren't thinking straight -he should know," he added with a slight smile, remembering the ace's admission that he was obsessed. "But... that's over, right?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I... don't want you dead. But..."

The pilot nodded. "I know. It's like I said, that day: this was a mistake. I... don't think we're right for each other..."

Flay managed a smile. "I realize that, Kira. I just wanted you to understand... that I don't hate you anymore. You need to be with someone who appreciates you for _you,_ not for what you might _do."_

Kira sighed. "If there _is_ someone like that..."

The redhead's smile became more natural. "Well, there's always that Orb princess, right?" she said, and swept out of the room, looking pleased with herself.

Kira's eyes went wide. "But- Hey! It's not like that-!"

* * *

_Archangel,_ Ken's Quarters

* * *

Even as Kira was stunned almost speechless by Flay's parting remark, Ken was attending to something of his own. At long last, he -and the _Archangel_- had left the Earth Alliance Forces... which meant there was something he needed to do.

He'd already taken a match to all of his Earth Forces uniforms, burning them as they deserved. Now, having removed his flightsuit, the ace pulled a red uniform out of his wardrobe. For several moments, he merely gazed at it, marveling at how long it had been since he last wore it. _Nearly eight months,_ he thought. _Eight months... for the first four, I remained in civilian clothing... and then for another four, I was forced to disgrace myself by wearing the uniform of the enemy. But today... today everything has changed. Now the time has come to return to who and what I am... at last._

Ken removed the uniform from its hanger, and began pulling it on. Red trousers, blue t-shirt, white boots... then the red coat, with accompanying belt. The uniform of a ZAFT top gun, of the very best soldiers the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty could field. Only a small percentage of every graduating class won the right to wear that uniform, and those who did were rightly looked upon as the best of the best. In his own class, only himself, Victor Tempest, and the Elsman siblings had been selected for the honor. Now one of them was dead, and one a traitor to ZAFT, the PLANTs, and his team... but two still had the right to wear it.

There was a knock on the hatch, and Murrue Ramius entered just as he was fastening the crimson coat. She looked him over, and smiled. "You know, Ken," she said quietly, "I do believe this is the first time I've seen you looking as you should. The Earth Forces white always looked alien on you -no wonder you always wore the trench coat- and the blue wasn't any better. This... this looks like _you."_

Ken smiled back. "Thanks, Murrue. It... feels good to be back in proper uniform, after all this time. Eight months I've been away from it, because I felt unworthy of it, but now... now ZAFT's Broken Blade can be reforged."

"Though not the same as he was," she remarked, lightly touching the gray feathers pinned to the uniform's collar, and then the patch on his shoulder. "Not quite..."

Where a normal ZAFT uniform would've had the organization's PLANT emblem on the shoulder, this one was different. There was still a PLANT, but it was turned on its side... and clutched in the talons of a peregrine falcon, wings spread, beak opened as though in its hunting call...

Looking at him now, Murrue began to see the young ace pilot in a new light. Previously, it had been difficult to get any kind of read on him; when he first arrived aboard the _Archangel,_ he'd been seemingly emotionless, displaying only a cold anger when his sister Sophia spoke badly of his allegiance to ZAFT. No expression had crossed his face at all, no trace of his thoughts could be seen on his face...

Now Murrue came to realize that the young man she'd met that day, for the first time in years, was not truly the Grimaldi Falcon. That pilot was mostly in abeyance, with "Falcon" representing only his drive to complete his mission, his brilliant piloting skills, and his cold, calculating tactics and strategy. Only his mind was truly present; his soul was locked behind an armor of detachment, grief, and iron determination to finish the task that had been set for him.

Gradually, though, the locks that had sealed away his humanity had been opened, one by one, as the _Archangel_'s crew and those they met along the way, and the things they experienced together, began to bring back the human in him.

And now Murrue saw, not a cold, precise automaton, but a genuinely likable... _Not kid,_ she realized. _By Coordinator standards, he's already an adult... and he's proven that he's a man many times over now. No, he's no child..._

"Murrue? Are you okay?"

Murrue shook herself, realizing she'd been staring. "Uh, yes, I'm fine," she managed. "I, ah, I was just lost in thought, that's all."

The ace smiled faintly. "So I see." He gestured toward the hatch. "Come on; we have a lot to discuss, don't we? I'm sure everyone else is waiting for us on the Bridge."

"Yes, of course..."

Together, Captain Murrue Ramius, of the rogue Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel,_ and Commander Kenneth DiFalco, of the True ZAFT Forces, walked out into the corridor.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

By the time Murrue and Ken arrived on the Bridge, the gathering was complete. Already present were the usual Bridge crew -Tonomura, Chandra, Pal, Neumann, Sai, Kuzzey, Mir, and Natarle- as well as Mu, Sophia (the pair standing curiously close together), Kira, Yzak, and Dearka. The last three were waiting to hear exactly what had led to the day's disaster...

And _all_ of them were waiting to hear what the Grimaldi Falcon had to say.

When Murrue has settled into the Captain's chair, and Ken had moved to the walkway in front of the bow viewport, Kira began the discussion. "So... what exactly happened here?" he asked. "I know about Operation Spit Break, but what I found here... wasn't exactly what I was expecting."

"For once, I'm with him," Yzak interjected, without even a scowl. "We were expecting this to be a cakewalk; after all, the Earth Forces had sent most of their forces to Panama, where they _expected_ us to attack. What went wrong?"

Sophia raised a hand. "Just a second. First, I want to know about this 'Spit Break'. I thought the target _was_ Panama; so what changed?"

"Nothing changed," Ken informed her. "It wasn't widely known in the PLANTs -and, as near as I can tell, Patrick never admitted it to the Council- but the buildup for an attack on Panama was nothing more than a feint, to throw off the defenders and draw them away from Alaska, which was the true target all along."

"I'm not surprised that you know that, Ken," Murrue remarked. "If anyone would, it would be you."

"Indeed," he concurred. "But not simply because I was Patrick's right-hand-man. As a matter of fact, Spit Break was my idea in the first place."

"Which," Mu said, into the ensuing pause, "is why Le Creuset called you the 'architect of your own demise', right?"

"Precisely; to be perfectly honest, I never expected to be hit by my own operation like that." Ken turned back to Yzak and Kira. "Now, to answer _your_ questions, here are the facts of how the battle went down, as nearly as we can determine: Someone -and I don't know who, but I'll kill him if I ever find out- leaked the details of Operation Spit Break to the Earth Forces... months in advance, no less. That's the only explanation for the Cyclops system that was emplaced beneath the base; that must have taken months to construct. In fact, this someone must've done it before it was approved by the Council... likely even before Heliopolis, now that I think about it."

"And, Headquarters being who they are," Mu muttered angrily, "they decided to use the operation as a trap, to wipe out as much of ZAFT's forces as they could."

Yzak shook his head. "You know, I could almost forgive them for that," he said grudgingly, "since we were legitimate targets. But using their own forces as bait... that violates all the rules of war."

Ken nodded. "Agreed. Were I occupying a position in the Earth Forces analogous to my role in ZAFT, I would've had Sutherland and his cronies shot for treason. What they did was inexcusable."

Dearka clenched a fist. "So the entire purpose of that battle was to lure ZAFT in, then wipe them out, _and_ those of their own military they found bothersome?"

"That's about the size of it," Murrue confirmed. "It would seem that the Atlantic Federation used the opportunity to gain an advantage over Eurasia, as well as get rid of the _Archangel."_ She snorted bitterly. "Presumably, they regarded us as 'tainted' by Ken and Kira."

"But who could've given them the intelligence?" the pilot wondered. "And why?"

"I don't know about the 'why'," Yzak said darkly, "but I think we can make a guess at _who."_ He looked at the ace. "That's more your department, Commander. Who had access to the full plan, including the true target? Can't be very many; even _I_ didn't know, and I'm -or I was- with the Le Creuset team."

Ken frowned. "As of my desertion," he said slowly, "and I don't think things would've changed that much in the interval, the only people who had access to all the details were..." He looked up. "Myself, Patrick, my Demons, and... Rau Le Creuset."

The Bridge went silent for several moments as that sank in, and then Yzak cursed explosively. "That bastard!" he hissed. "You didn't do it, your people couldn't have done it, and Chairman Zala wouldn't have... so it was my own Commander! Urgh! If I see that rotten bastard again, I'll kill him!"

"You'll have to take a number," the Grimaldi Falcon said dryly. "Mu and I want him dead, too... because of Endymion."

There was silence for a full minute after that, before Mu cleared his throat. "Well, then, we've decided that we've all been betrayed by our respective superiors. What now?" He looked at the two newest additions to the group. "Joule? Elsman? What about you two? You with us?"

Dearka nodded firmly. "I'm with you." He shot a peculiar glance at Mir, before looking the Hawk of Endymion right in the eye. "I think I finally see what Falcon's been fighting for all this time... and I agree with him. I don't know where we're going, but I'm going there with you."

Yzak was silent for several moments, before nodding decisively. "I'm in," he said sharply. "I don't know exactly what's going on, but Le Creuset obviously betrayed us; and since he's Chairman Zala's fair-haired boy, there's not much chance of him getting caught." He looked at the ace. "I guess your way was the right one, Commander," he said grudgingly. "Sometimes, you _can't_ work from within... and when that happens, you do what you have to do." He hesitated. "But... do you think your people can get word to my mother? I don't know if she'll understand... but she should know what I'm doing, and why."

Ken nodded. "You got it, Yzak," he said quietly. "They've had to go underground, but they still have their contacts; I'll give them the word as soon as I can contact them again."

Murrue sighed. "And _that,_ of course, leaves just one question: where do we go from here?"

All eyes turned to the Grimaldi Falcon.

Ken closed his eye, gathering his thoughts. He'd been expecting this, since he was the most experienced mutineer among them...

His eye opened, and straightened. "There comes a time," he began solemnly, "when a soldier has to make a choice. I once heard it said like this: If I ever had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friends... I hope I'd have the guts to betray my country." He started to pace back and forth on the walkway, hands behind his back. "Yet that's not exactly the situation you're faced with today. Your country has betrayed _you,_ which gives them no claim on your loyalty. A nation who uses its soldiers as expendable tools has no right to expect obedience from those same soldiers. They have forgotten two maxims by which I, at least, live: never give an order you _know_ won't be obeyed... and sometimes, it is a soldier's _duty_ to turn against his masters. When they choose to throw away his life, they choose, in that same moment, to throw away their own. For at that moment, the government has become something lacking in all true authority, and turning against it is not treason, but rather duty, and common sense. Only a fool fights for such a country; only a coward asks him to."

The ace paused for breath, while his words sank in. Murrue found herself almost mesmerized by his calm, yet impassioned speech; it was almost as though he'd spent the last several months planning exactly what to see, to raise his comrades to action.

_Maybe he has,_ she thought to herself. _He came back, when he had no strategic or tactical reason to; he could've flown away, and rejoined his comrades in space... yet he didn't..._

"As I said," Ken went on, "there comes a time when you must make a choice, between what your duty tells you to do, and what you know is _right_ to do. I faced that choice myself, eight months ago. Patrick had by then begun his plans of genocide, using a weapon of mass destruction as its centerpiece... and, to my sorrow, _I_ was the man who wrote up the original plan for the operation. Patrick has twisted it to his own purposes, but the core remains my brainchild... my responsibility." He looked across the Bridge, meeting Murrue's eyes for a brief, significant moment. "Most of you met me the day I came aboard this ship, fighting against ZAFT yet professing to be acting in the best interests of the PLANTs. Even then, you knew something had gone wrong, that I was acting out a plan because of some failure of mine; yet I have never said exactly what it was I was doing. Now you know: as an unwitting yet unfortunately brilliant tool, I was used to further Patrick Zala's dreams of a Natural-free world, where Coordinators would 'inherit the world'. I didn't realize what he was doing... but because I remained blind until it was too late, I bear the responsibility on my own shoulders. I came to this ship completely be accident, when Rau and his team attacked Heliopolis; yet even then I was attempting to rectify my mistake, atone for my sin... because I had made my choice, between duty and conscience."

_You didn't commit any sin, Bro,_ Sophia thought. _You did what you thought was right... and when you understood it was wrong, you did your best to stop it. I think I begin to understand you a little better..._

He was coming to the point of his speech now, and his gaze had a sharp intensity to it none of them had ever seen before. "Now is _your_ time to choose," Ken told them all. "I remembered the Shiva Option, and hatred for Naturals so many of my comrades had; now you must reflect on Endymion, and the Bloody Valentine, and on Alaska. So which is it? Will you continue to follow orders, while your superiors betray you? Or will you take matters into your own hands, fight for justice, not genocide? The choice... is yours, and yours alone." He lifted his chin, seeming to look into every eye at once. "Some have called me traitor; others may call you the same. But _we_ will know the truth."

A long, long silence filled the Bridge, and extended throughout the ship, to spaces the intercom had brought the ace's words. Every man and woman aboard the _Archangel_ faced this choice, asked themselves if the one among them who had been a "traitor" the longest was truly right... and one by one, they made their choice.

One woman gazed at Ken DiFalco with a peculiar intensity of her own. _He's gone through the fires of hell,_ she thought, _been called traitor by his own people, monster by those he reluctantly supported, and berated himself for his "sin". Yet he, and he only, has striven to change the conflict, bring the war to an end... he only has marshaled forces, organized an effective third party..._

_Ken and his people, and whatever allies they may have, are the only ones trying to make a difference... and they've been doing it the longest._

Murrue Ramius came to her feet, braced to attention, and saluted crisply. "Commander DiFalco," she said clearly, "I hereby request permission to join your organization."

* * *

Author's note: JOSHUA Base has been destroyed, the _Archangel_ has left the Earth Forces, and Yzak Joule has -reluctantly- joined the ship's ranks. Now Murrue Ramius has elected to join Ken DiFalco's True ZAFT faction; where will Fate take the "legged ship" now?

Whew! That was another long one, though not as long as the last; and I fear I may have gone a little overboard with that last speech. But, you know... it just seemed to fit. Well, I guess I'll leave it up to the judgment of the readers.

I have an announcement to make, by the way: due to the fact that I'm told it will likely be several months yet before Gundam SEED: Destiny airs in America, there's been a change in schedule. Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms, sequel to Kevin Walker's first saga, will begin very shortly, and the first chapter will, hopefully, be posted sometime next week. In the interest of that goal, I won't be starting the next chapter of Birds of a Feather until that first chapter is up -unless I should get some sudden inspiration, of course- but after that, the two should be running more or less concurrently. You needn't fear that I'll give up on Birds of a Feather, believe me; there are still a number of twists I'm looking forward to…

In the meantime, please let me know what you think of this chapter. -Solid Shark


	29. Chapter 29: Shifting Loyalties

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, May 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Commander DiFalco, I hereby request permission to join your organization."

Ken DiFalco blinked in surprise. Murrue Ramius' decision to leave the Earth Forces was one he'd been expecting... but he hadn't anticipated _this._ His intention was to _ally_ his own Gray Demons with the _Archangel..._ but it appeared she had something more ambitious in mind.

As it was, he was sufficiently startled that it took a few moments before he returned her salute. "Captain Ramius," he said, with equal formality, "I accept your entry into our forces." The ace then stepped forward, and clasped her hand. "And may I say," he went on with a smile, "that as unexpected as this may be, it's good to have you with us, Murrue."

Murrue nodded. "To a long, hopefully successful alliance, Ken."

Mu cocked his head, with a lopsided grin. "I think, little brother, that the Captain speaks for just about everyone here. Am I right?"

The assembled members of the Bridge crew and the surviving pilots looked at each other, and exchanged firm nods. "I think you've got some recruits, Falcon," Sophia remarked. "We're all out of our minds... but I'm sure you've got some kind of scheme going on, and frankly, I wouldn't care to bet against you."

"We're with you, Ken," Kira agreed. "I... may disagree with your methods, sometimes, but we're both working toward the same goal." He smiled. "Besides, if what I saw in the PLANTs is any indication, I'd say you and your people have the best chance of bringing this to an end. The Junk Guild doesn't care, people like the Serpent Tail mercenaries work for _both_ sides, and Orb's neutral... which makes your True ZAFT the only third party with the strength to truly back up its ideals."

Ken swallowed, using every ounce of discipline in his body to control himself. _I've fought so long, so hard,_ he thought to himself. _All of it's been alone, with just the people who've served with me for months or years following me, helping me... And now these guys, who were my enemies until recently, are willing to trust me, and my plan..._

"Thank you," he said softly. "All of you. But," he added sharply, "I don't expect _any_ of you to act like I'm some kind of commander. Murrue is still in charge of this ship; the only force I directly control is what's left of my team. Don't go thinking that I'm supposed to be the leader now or something. If anything, we're equal... and with no formal rank structure to get in the way, maybe we'll actually get something done around here."

"I have to say, this will take some getting used to," Natarle commented. "It goes against the grain... but on the other hand, C- Falcon," she corrected herself, "I can at least trust _you_ not to use any of us as bait. I don't imagine your master plan -whatever it is- is exactly safe... but you, at least, have a habit of being honest."

Mir tilted her head. "Wait a second," she interjected. "Does this mean we're all going to have to change uniforms?"

Kira looked at her. "Tell me something, Miriallia," he said. "Do you _really_ think hot-pink is a good color for a uniform?"

She blinked. "Um..."

Mu looked over at Ken. "I think the ship is going to get a little more colorful soon," he said dryly. "How many uniform colors do you guys _have,_ anyway?"

"Four," the ace answered. "Standard green, for mechanics, regular crew, and most pilots; dark gray for ship captains and aides; white for team commanders; and red for elite pilots and some commanders. Like me," he added, unnecessarily.

His brother raised an eyebrow. "Why _didn't_ you switch to white, anyway?"

"Because Rau Le Creuset did."

Murrue chuckled, and Natarle shook her head. "Okay, people," the lieutenant muttered, "he's human; he just admitted to doing something out of pride."

There was a general chuckle... which was abruptly interrupted by Pal. "Incoming ZAFT signatures!" he called out. "We have a CGUE DEEP Arms closing!"

Ken was at the petty officer's side in an instant. "This isn't good," he muttered, tapping keys on Pal's console. "The last time we ran into a DEEP Arms, it was... Wait a second." He frowned. "Detecting a submarine... _Vosgulov_-class... Oh." The ace straightened. "I think we can relax, people. That's the _Hades_ heading our way, which means the CGUE is..."

"Housenka," Yzak finished. "Has to be."

Ken gave him an odd look. "Excuse me? 'Housenka'?"

The Duel's pilot suddenly looked slightly flustered. "Uh, well, that's Shiho Hahnenfuss. That's her nickname, you see, because of the pattern of explosions when she shoots something..." He coughed. "It was kind of my idea."

The ace slowly shook his head. _Yzak Joule, flustered... never thought I'd see that. Well, Leanne _did _tell me Shiho had a crush on the guy..._ "I see," he said aloud. "Well, then, we're in the clear. Murrue, Natarle, we should get ready to receive visitors."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "Who's Shiho Hahnenfuss?"

"She's a ZAFT redcoat," he replied. "Used to be a Gray Demon, before Endymion; if she's here, with the _Hades,_ then Tom and Sparky must've succeeded in contacting her... which means the Demons are back up to almost half their original strength."

"Receiving a hail, Captain," Kuzzey reported. "The pilot of the CGUE -she's identified herself as Shiho Hahnenfuss- is requesting permission to come aboard. Likewise, the _Hades_ is requesting..." He paused. "Their exact words are, 'Please don't blow us out of the water when we get close'."

"Then we won't," Murrue said, chuckling to herself. "And give the CGUE permission to land. I think some allies just arrived."

Yzak glanced sidelong at the ace. "You've been gathering your resources for months now, haven't you... And since Shiho used to be one of your Demons, you recalled her, huh?"

"More precisely," Ken corrected, "my people recalled her; I've been incommunicado ever since the _Archangel_ reached Alaska. Sparky and the others have been operating independently for the last couple weeks."

"You know," Mu interjected, "that's something I've been wondering about for awhile now. Why do you call Lance Cooper 'Sparky'?"

Dearka and Ken exchanged glances, and chuckled. "That, Mu," the ace told him, "would be because of a training accident. His GINN trainer, upon suffering a hit in an exercise, was suddenly revealed to have bad wiring. An electrical surge went through the cockpit -and the pilot's seat- putting him into a coma for three days. Ever since then, ol' 'Sparky' has had a pronounced facial tic. During combat operations, he takes a mild tranquilizer -similar to what some snipers use to keep their hands steady- so that it doesn't distract him."

"Although, of course," Dearka put in, "it's been awhile since he was _on_ combat ops."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "And why might that be?"

"Trick of genetics caused him some trouble," Ken informed her. "For some reason, after Nova he got a belated growth spurt, putting him at about two meters, with the bulk to match. It's all muscle... but it means he's not very comfortable in standard cockpits anymore."

"Genetic oddities aren't uncommon in Commander DiFalco's units," Yzak said dryly. "His engineer buddy, Delaney, had gray hair from the day he was born."

"The CGUE has landed in the hangar, Captain," Mir reported. "Its pilot is on her way up."

Murrue nodded. "Thank you, Crewman... er, Miriallia." She smiled. "I guess we're all going to have to get used to not being in the military anymore, hm?"

"Well," Mu drawled, draping an arm on a surprised Sophia's shoulders, "look on the bright side: we don't have to worry about military protocol anymore."

The Kestrel cleared her throat. "Um. Yeah, I guess that's something." She shot her brother an odd look. "And hey, no more regulations against fraternization." Her gaze flicked toward Murrue for an instant, before meandering over to the viewport.

Ken's head turned in a manner disturbingly similar to a falcon's: abrupt, with a piercing gaze. "And what," he said quietly, "does _that_ have to do with anything, Sophia?"

"Nothing," she said innocently. "Just an idle thought, that's all."

Before his questioning could get as intense as his gaze, the Bridge elevator slid open, and a brown-haired young woman in ZAFT red entered. "Reporting as ordered, sir!" she called, saluting the Grimaldi Falcon.

Ken looked at her oddly. "And just when have the Demons stood on ceremony, Shiho?" he questioned. "For that matter, when has ZAFT in general been very formal?"

"Sorry, Boss," she replied, walking to the bow of the Bridge. "It's just... it's been awhile since the team was together, you know?"

"Yeah... I know..." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Anyway, it's good to have you back, Shiho. Murrue," he added, looking up, "this is Shiho Hahnenfuss, one of the original Gray Demons; though not one who was at Endymion. Shiho, this is Murrue Ramius, captain of the _Archangel;_ until recently, she was a lieutenant commander with the Earth Forces."

Shiho saluted. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Ma'am."

Murrue smiled. "Likewise, Miss... Shiho. Always a pleasure to meet one of those crazy enough to have joined Ken's unit."

Ken raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm insane, Murrue?"

"Not at all," she assured him. "No more than slightly unstable."

Shiho blinked at the exchange. "Uh..."

"You'll get used to it, Housenka," Yzak assured her. "I've only been aboard an hour, and I'm already getting used to how crazy these people are."

She jerked. "Yzak! I... I hadn't realized you were with the group!"

"Until DiFalco shot me down, I wasn't," he said dryly. "But he filled Dearka and me in on what's been going on... so here we are." He jerked his head at Ken. "And if you ever wonder how the legged ship survived so long, now you know: they're too crazy to die."

"Well," Mu said, after the introductions had finished. "We still have the question that started this little meeting: where do we _go_ from here? I mean, it's all well and good to decide to join Falcon and his band of misfits in an effort to end the war... but that doesn't tell us _where_ to go."

"I suspect I already know," Murrue murmured, looking at Ken. "Orb, right?"

The ace nodded. "That's right. It probably won't surprise you to learn that I've already made arrangements with Lord Uzumi; it's time to act on them. Orb is the place where it will all begin..."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Clyne Residence, May 11th, C.E. 71

* * *

Athrun Zala, ZAFT Special Forces, stared at the ruined mansion that had once been his fiancé's home. The gardens were torn apart, the windows broken, the doors knocked in...

_That surveillance tape was enough for Father to declare Lacus _and _her father traitors,_ he thought sickly. _And this is the result..._

After returning to the PLANTs, and learning of Operation Spit Break's spectacular failure, Athrun had met with his father... and found the situation far different from what he remembered. His father was now a tense, withdrawn man, who had reacted badly to being called "Father"; and the word that Neutron-jammer cancellers had been developed...

Then the hammer blow that Lacus Clyne had been directly responsible for an enemy agent obtaining the new ZGMF-X10A Freedom... along with her bodyguard, Commander Lance Cooper. That Lacus could _do_ such a thing... He just couldn't believe it, and he'd told his father exactly that.

_"Nonetheless," Patrick Zala told him, "it's the truth, Athrun. The Clyne Faction has clearly betrayed us... and Cooper's involvement is clear evidence that DiFalco has truly gone over to the Earth Forces. They are traitors, Athrun, make no mistake. That is why the Clynes have to be caught... and any surviving members of the Grimaldi Falcon's cabal must be... dealt with." He turned his attention back to his paperwork, but then looked up briefly. "Oh, yes," Zala added, "needless to say, your engagement to Lacus Clyne is no longer in effect."_

His father's cold words had chilled Athrun. This was not the man he remembered, from when he was growing up. _And breaking off our engagement..._ He tightened his right hand, the one not in a sling. _It's not broken until I find out what's going on,_ he told himself. _It may've been arranged... but she means more to me than I ever realized. I _have _to learn the truth!_

What Athrun really wanted to do was find one of DiFalco's people, and press him for information; but it seemed that all of them had gone underground. Tom Delaney and Lance Cooper had vanished with the Clynes, while Leanne Eldridge had simply faded away weeks before, while on assignment on Earth. Any confederates they might yet have in ZAFT were impossible to locate; and, while they clearly had a base somewhere within the PLANTs, it was just as impossible to find as they were.

Which meant he had no clear way of getting the information he needed. Having seen the state his father was in, he hadn't even bothered to ask about the mysterious Project GENESIS DiFalco had mentioned; something told him that his father was no longer quite the same man the Grimaldi Falcon had known...

So now Athrun was here, at the Clyne Residence, looking for clues to Lacus' location. He didn't honestly expect to find any; if such clues existed, his father's men would've already found Lacus, and done... He wasn't sure what, but he feared it wouldn't be good.

_What a messed up situation this is,_ he thought bitterly. _I'm even starting to suspect my own father... Is this the sort of thing that drove Commander DiFalco over the edge? What did the man know, and how much of it does _Lacus _know?_

The only way he could get answers would be to find Lacus... so he advanced into the ruined estate. There might be something there, some clue that only he would recognize...

Carefully picking his way through the debris the Justice Ministry people had left behind, Athrun kept one hand in his jacket, on the grips of a small machine pistol. He wasn't the best shot in ZAFT... but if anything tried to get the drop on him, he intended to fill it full of holes. _Shoot first, ask questions later; nice and safe... or as safe as anything is right now._

As he made his way toward the gardens, the pilot had the oddest feeling he was being watched... and atop the mansion's roof, looking through a pair of binoculars, a gray-haired youth in red smiled. _Right on time,_ he thought to himself. _The Boss would be pleased; and I'm sure Miss Lacus will be happy, as well._

_So many memories..._ Athrun thought, entering Lacus' prized -and now ruined- gardens. _Once it might've been a matter of mere duty... but not anymore. Lacus, I have to find you... before my father's people do._

A sudden noise made him half-draw his gun, before his mind caught up with his eyes. It was a certain pink, ball-shaped robot, jumping out of the flowers. "Hello!" it greeted, hopping madly. "Follow me!"

_Uh...?_ At first, Athrun wasn't sure if the Haro actually meant something, or if it was just making one of its typically-nonsensical comments on the situation. But the way it suddenly bounded off down the path... _There's a message here,_ he realized. _A message for me... That Haro was waiting for me._

Cautiously, still alert for traps, he followed the robot, until they reached the torn and scattered remains of a group of white flowers. There the Haro stopped, and looked at him, almost expectantly. "Here, here!" it said, as though expecting some kind of reaction.

Athrun paid little attention to the robot now. Instead, he stared at the flowers; there was something... _She said something about these flowers once. What was it...? Of course..._

_"These flowers came from the White Symphony Theater,"_ Lacus had told him, long ago. _"The place where I first sang in public. They're something to remember it by."_

_Now_ he began to understand. The Justice Ministry people hadn't thought anything of it, hadn't found anything... because this was the kind of clue that _only_ Athrun Zala would understand. Something that one wouldn't necessarily understand, even if the searcher knew Lacus' complete background...

"She _wants_ me to find her," he murmured, almost inaudibly. "She wants to see me... she knows the questions I have..."

"She does," a voice behind him agreed. "And put away that gun, Zala, before you hurt someone."

Athrun had instinctively spun, raising his pistol, but now he put the weapon away; not only did he recognize the speaker... but he had a feeling he didn't want to mess with the sword that had suddenly appeared in his hand. "Tom Delaney," he said quietly. "You're in on this, too."

Tom nodded. "That's right; though it would be more accurate to say that Miss Lacus is in on it 'too'. The Boss had us plotting long before it occurred to her or her father to take action."

Athrun's fist clenched. "So you're admitting Lacus helped an enemy spy," he said tightly. "Isn't that right, Delaney?"

"I admit nothing," the Demon informed him. "The facts are far different from what you believe, Zala; even your father doesn't know the whole truth."

"So what _is_ the whole truth?" the pilot demanded. "Answer me!"

Tom shook his head. "Sorry, Zala; but that's something Miss Lacus wants to explain personally. Besides, I wouldn't expect you to trust just _my_ word. After all, I'm one of the Gray Demons, and everyone knows we speak in riddles, hiding the truth to serve our own conspiracies." He glanced toward the estate's entrance. "I have a shuttle waiting, if you'd like to see her. If we hurry, we can be at Junius Five in, say... half an hour. Shall we?"

* * *

PLANTs, Junius Five, White Symphony Theater

* * *

A single car stopped just outside the run-down theater, and Athrun slowly got out of the passenger side. "So this is the place," he murmured. "I can see why she chose _this_ for a meeting; no one would ever guess there'd be someone here."

"Exactly," Tom agreed, getting out of the driver's seat; he'd insisted on driving, since Athrun had a still-healing break in his arm. "We have to be very careful these days, Zala; and quite frankly, if you hadn't already met the Boss and Leanne, and heard they were both rogue, I wouldn't be here. As it is, even if you don't accept what we have to say, there's nothing you can tell your father that you couldn't have said before... and nothing that he doesn't already know."

Athrun looked at him suspiciously, but said nothing; and, silently, the pair entered the White Symphony.

Singing could be heard from somewhere within; it was clearly Lacus... yet both, as though in silent agreement, drew their weapons. Athrun still feared -or thought he feared- that Lacus might truly be a traitor; Tom had a sudden sense of foreboding...and also wanted to make sure he could protect Lacus from his companion if it came to it.

_Swords, after all, tend to make one very, very dead..._

Athrun scarcely noticed when Tom fell behind; all his attention was focused on the voice he heard from the main amphitheater. _Lacus... your voice is as beautiful as always... Can you truly have betrayed us? I just can't believe it..._

Machine pistol held ready, he slipped through the door leading into the theater's main chamber... and there on the stage, beneath a single spotlight, was a lone figure in a blue dress, sing; her soft voice was amplified by the careful acoustics of the chamber, echoing out with no electronic enhancement. As ever, it was song that could stir the hearts of a people troubled by war...

Descending the steps down to the stage, Athrun had to fight to keep his mind clear, to not let the song consume him. He had to remember why he was here...

When he got near the stage itself, the Haro he carried bounded away, jumping onto the raised platform to be caught by the lone figure... Lacus Clyne. "Hello, Athrun," she greeted warmly. "I knew you'd be the one to find Mr. Pink, and bring him to me. Thank you so much."

Athrun was in no mood to be thanked or placated. With a burst of sudden energy, he jumped onto the stage himself. "Of course you knew it'd be me," he said bluntly. "You left him there to show me the way, didn't you?"

"Well, yes," Lacus admitted. "And if you hadn't found Haro, Mr. Delaney would've contacted you anyway. But I'm still grateful."

"Save it," he told her, hand shaking on his pistol's grips. "I need to know something," he went on tightly. "I don't want to believe it... but is it true what they're saying? That you're guilty of helping an enemy agent steal one of our newest weapons? Answer me, Lacus."

She tilted her head. "Some of what you said is true," she acknowledged. "I did aid someone in obtaining the Freedom... but he was not an enemy agent, and I was merely helping him succeed in what needs to be done, and fulfill a promise he made to someone important to him." She smiled. "I felt that Kira had more need of the Freedom than ZAFT did."

Athrun's eyes went wide, and he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Kira?" he said hoarsely. "But... You're lying! Kira's gone! I-"

"Killed him yourself?" Lacus said gently. "Yes, that's the tale he told... except that dead men tell no tales, isn't that right?"

He tried to point his gun at her, but his hand shook so much he couldn't have hit the theater itself it it'd been falling on him. "It... it can't be..." he whispered. "Kira's gone... I killed him, after he..."

"After he killed _me?"_

The voice came from one of the rows of seats overlooking the stage, and Athrun's eyes went wider, as he whipped his head around to look. "What...? No... it can't be..."

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Athrun," Nicol Amalfi said easily, now descending toward the stage. "But then, I almost _was_ one, so..."

Athrun swallowed convulsively, seeing his lost friend returned. His face -which had been partially disguised by makeup, during Kira's time in the PLANTs- was the same, save only a jagged scar on his left cheek. It _was_ Nicol... but... "How...?" he whispered. "I... I watched you die..."

"Blitz was a write-off," Nicol admitted. "And I nearly was, too... but my cousin and her people were there in time to save me. I was badly hurt, but I recovered... and so did Kira, Athrun. I've met him, talked with him... You know, you really should've told me the Strike pilot was your best friend. I know Dearka and Yzak might've had problems, but _I_ would've understood."

The blue-haired pilot lowered his arm, and his gun dropped from nerveless fingers. "I... I just don't understand what's going on anymore..."

Lacus stood, and came over to him. "Now is your time to choose, Athrun," she said gently. "What _is_ it you believe in? I heard you received the Order of the Nebula for destroying the Strike; is _that_ what you believe in? Or is it your father's orders?"

"Things have changed since we last left the PLANTs, Athrun," Nicol agreed. "You must've seen it by now. The Neutron-jammer cancellers, the new mobile suits... Even your father is different from how you remember him, isn't he? Sparky told me how he used to be... and I can tell you that Chairman Zala isn't the man he once was."

Athrun squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know what to believe anymore. His father... _Everything's changed,_ he thought despairingly. _Nothing is as simple as it used to be... We've found a way around our own anti-nuclear countermeasures, my father's become a paranoid, badly-stressed leader... What _is _it we're fighting for now?_

"You have to make a choice," Lacus said again. "If you continue on your current course, I must warn you now that we _will_ come into conflict. You'll have to fight Kira again, too," she added.

"And me," Nicol said sadly. "I've thrown in my lot with the True ZAFT, Athrun; because they _are_ what ZAFT should be, what it _used_ to be. Only in them does the spirit of the old ZAFT still hold true; only they remember the original mission... and they have the strength to do something about it, Athrun."

"How nice," another voice sneered. "You have our thanks, Athrun Zala," it added. "You've helped us find Miss Clyne, and bagged us another traitor in the bargain. Very nice."

Athrun whirled, to see several Justice Ministry men in black suits pointing guns at Lacus from off-stage. "What the- What's this all about?" he demanded. "What's going on?"

"Lacus Clyne has been branded a traitor," the leader answered. "We're authorized to use all necessary force to bring her in." He smiled coldly. "Including _lethal_ force, if need be."

Athrun stared, instinctively getting between Lacus and the guns. "Those orders can't be right!" Through his shock, he wondered why neither Nicol nor Lacus seemed concerned... and then a gurgling noise answered the question.

Somehow, without the Justice men noticing, a huge man in ZAFT red had slipped into their midst, and now one enormous hand gripped the leader's neck from behind, and was squeezing... while behind him, a certain gray-haired man with a katana started cutting down the other men. A few short screams, a pair of gunshots -one from Nicol, who had produced a gun in the middle of the commotion, and one from the stage's shadows- and a sharp crunching noise later, it was over.

Sparky Cooper dropped the man whose neck he'd just crushed, and nodded to Tom. "I think that worked out well," he stated. "Martin? How's it look?"

A red-haired man in ZAFT green stepped out of the shadows, holding a smoking pistol. "All clear, Commander," he replied. "Your people do good work."

"We were trained by the best," Tom agreed. "Not that beheading a few flunkies like these is all that difficult."

Lacus smiled. "Thank you, all of you... especially you, Athrun," she added. "That was brave of you, standing in their way."

Athrun shrugged uncomfortably. "It... It, ah, seemed like the right thing to do," he managed. "But... what's going on here, really? This is more than just a handful of traitors against the Council..."

The red-haired man, whom Athrun suddenly realized was Martin DaCosta, Andy Waltfeld's old protégé, nodded. "It's gone farther than you know, Athrun Zala."

"We have more resources than anyone suspects," Sparky affirmed. "We have access to all of ZAFT's newest technology, along with a couple of ships and a number of next-generation mobile suits. ZGMF-X00A Preybird, the machine you met on Earth, is only a part of the overall plan."

Tom nodded. "We're in a position to decapitate the PLANTs' leadership, take out the entire Supreme Council," he admitted. "Have been for months, in fact."

"But that isn't the plan," Nicol put in. "It never was."

Athrun looked around, confused. "But why? If you're really in a position to take over the PLANTs, why haven't you? Wouldn't that accomplish your goal?"

"Yes... and no," Lacus said slowly. "It's true that True ZAFT could depose your father easily enough... but it wouldn't solve anything. The resulting chaos... it would leave us open to attack by the Earth Forces, and it would also tie up the faction's resources."

Sparky nodded. "At this moment, Zala, only Miss Clyne could possibly control the civilian side of things -her father, thanks to _your_ father, is suspect in their eyes right now- and even there, we're not certain. And the only man who could take command of ZAFT is the Boss, and he's... needed elsewhere."

"And this presupposes that it wouldn't lead to civil war," Nicol agreed. "So you see our problem, Athrun. We could, theoretically, end it all right now, by, say, bombing the Supreme Council chamber... but even if we could control the resulting chaos, that very action would make us people who had lost sight of our ideals... people to whom the ends justify the means."

Athrun found his voice again at last. "So what _are_ you going to do?"

"Marshal our resources," Sparky told him. "And then break free of the PLANTs, rendezvous with the Boss... and begin Shiva Option Three. Then we hope that we're not too late to stop what's happening."

"Kira is playing a central role in this himself," Lacus told him. "He doesn't know it... but he, along with Commander DiFalco, is our only hope. He's more important than I think any of us realized until we gave him the Freedom."

Athrun's fist clenched again. "So what... so what am _I_ supposed to do?"

"You must follow your conscience," she said kindly. "No one can make this decision for you, Athrun... but you _must_ ask yourself what it is you're fighting for. Because if it's still for your father... then we _will_ be on opposite sides of this conflict." She paused. "I'm sorry, Athrun. I love you... but this is something I have to do. I don't know if you can understand that..."

DaCosta cleared his throat. "Miss Lacus, we should probably leave here before any Justice Ministry reinforcements get here. I doubt it will be long before this batch is missed."

Lacus nodded. "I know." The small group of two swordsmen, two gunmen, and a strong-willed pop star moved toward an exit... but she paused, and looked over her shoulder. "You'll find Kira on Earth," she said quietly. "I suggest that you have a talk with him. He _is_ your friend, after all."

Then they were gone, leaving Athrun with his own thoughts. "What do... I do?" he whispered. "Everything's changed... the war isn't what I always thought it was... Does that mean that my part in it isn't what I always thought it was?"

He thought of Kira, who had chosen to return to the battlefield despite _knowing_ that he might have to face his best friend in battle again; of Nicol, who had learned True ZAFT's mad plan and chosen to join it, believing it to be the only _right_ course left...

And of the man who started it all, the original traitor... Commander Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco. A man who had lost his home -and, some said, more- to the Earth Forces in the Bloody Valentine; who had been badly injured at Endymion Crater, and subsequently rose to the very pinnacle of influence within ZAFT... and a man who had been forced to turn on his comrades by a secret that had terrified him...

"What do I _do?"_

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, May 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

"We're coming up on Onogoro Island, Ma'am," Neumann reported. "ETA five minutes."

"We're being hailed, Captain," Kuzzey chimed in. "Request for identification and our intentions."

Murrue nodded; she'd been expecting it. "A formality, I expect," she murmured, "since they let us into their territory in the first place. Well, better put them on. Ken?"

Still feeling somewhat bemused, Ken walked from his position near the Bridge elevator to next to the Captain's chair; Murrue had decided that, since he was the one who'd started it, and was technically in command of the organization the _Archangel_ had joined, he should be the first to speak. "You sure about this?" he murmured to her. "You _are_ the captain, you know..."

"And you're the one who started this whole crusade," she pointed out. "It's something _you_ should do."

Further discussion was forestalled by an Orb military official appearing on the main screen. _"This is Onogoro Control,"_ the man said crisply. _"Please identify yourselves, and state your intentions."_

Ken cleared his throat. "My name is Commander Ken DiFalco," he answered clearly, "aboard the rogue Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel._ The _Vosgulov_-class submarine accompanying us is the _Hades,_ and we're both representing the True ZAFT faction; we hereby request permission to dock at Onogoro Island for repairs. I believe one of my people is already with you, and I expect Lord Uzumi Nara Athha would like to speak with us."

The Orb officer turned, consulted with someone off screen, and nodded. _"Very well, Commander. Your ships have permission to dock; a meeting with Lord Uzumi will be arranged shortly."_ He smiled; an interesting contrast to the ship's last visit. _"And yes, your subordinate is with us; in fact, Miss Eldridge is quite eager to see you, Commander. Perhaps you could take her off our hands before she bounces off the walls."_

"In other words," Ken murmured, "Leanne is happy to see us. Very well, sir," he said, raising his voice again. "I'll see what I can do about that."

_"That would be appreciated."_ The signal cut off.

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "You seem more relaxed than I've seen you in awhile. Glad to be in Orb, away from the fighting, at least briefly?"

"Something like that," he admitted. "Besides... there's one thing about this situation that I don't think anyone's really considered."

"What's that?"

The ace smiled. "Cagalli has no idea that Kira's still alive... which could make for a very interesting reunion, given how close those two are."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor

* * *

Cagalli Yula Athha walked slowly down the _Archangel_'s corridors, wishing this visit were as pleasant as the last. Last time she'd been here, it had been to see Kira off... but at least he'd still been alive then. _How could you _do _that, Kira? You promised me you'd come back..._

In some ways, she'd have preferred not to be here at all; but if nothing else, her partner was aboard, and it seemed likely she'd finally get some answers out of him about what he was up to. Still, the memories of this ship...

"Cagalli?"

Cagalli stopped dead in her tracks, almost falling in shock. That voice... no, it couldn't be... _But... but it can't be..._ Slowly, she turned... and there, wearing his usual blue uniform, stood Kira Yamato, with a somewhat nervous smile on his face. "K-Kira...?"

He nervously cleared his throat. "Sorry I'm late..."

The next thing Kira knew, he'd been slammed against the bulkhead, Cagalli's arms around him in a fierce embrace, her face buried against his shoulder. "You _idiot!"_ she shouted. "You promised me you'd come back... and then you almost get yourself killed... I thought you were dead! How could you _do_ that to me?"

He blinked, startled by the vehemence of her reaction... and flushed slightly, remembering Flay's parting words, when they met again. "Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to worry you... and I _did_ come back, didn't I? Just like I said..."

She tightened her grip. "I can't believe... you're really alive," she whispered. "When we found the Strike, and what was left of the Aegis, I thought it was all over... Athrun even confirmed it..."

Kira raised an eyebrow, at Athrun's name, but didn't comment. "Well," he said instead, "Athrun was wrong; you can't get rid of me _that_ easy."

Cagalli swallowed. "Good... because I... I don't want to lose you, Kira..."

He smiled. "You're not gonna lose me, Cagalli. Even when I'm out on the battlefield, I'll be fine; the new machine Ken's people created will keep me safe."

She chuckled at that. "They have their fingers in everything, don't they? But I'm glad to hear it... and you should've heard the lecture Ken gave Athrun, after we picked him up."

Kira sighed. "So, you _did_ talk to Athrun, huh? How... how was he?"

"Bad," Cagalli answered. "A broken arm... and a lot of guilt, over killing you. He kept trying to justify it... but his heart wasn't really in it. And when Ken and Leanne ripped into him... he just went to pieces. It was all I could do not to shoot him myself, though..."

He smiled again. "I appreciate the sentiment, though I'm glad you _didn't_ kill him. So... where is he now?"

"He's in the PLANTs," another voice said. "Just got a message from Sparky; your buddy Zala met Lacus Clyne at Junius Five, four days ago."

Cagalli hurriedly pulled back, flushing. "Uh, Kira," she said quickly, "this is Leanne Eldridge, one of Ken's Demons. Leanne, this is Kira Yamato."

Leanne smiled, and extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Kira," she said warmly. "Cagalli's said a lot about you... as has the Boss. Nice to see the legend in the flesh."

Kira blinked. "Legend? Well... I wouldn't put it quite that way..."

"And just as modest as you said," she murmured to Cagalli. "Doesn't even realize how extraordinary he is... You know, if he weren't taken, I might be interested in him myself..."

Cagalli glared at her. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean, Leanne?"

Leanne laughed. "Oh, come on; the Boss has talked about both of you... and you think I never noticed how much you talked about him? Look, girl, the only people you two are fooling are yourselves... and I don't think you're doing a good job of that anymore, either."

Kira sputtered, while Cagalli's glare redoubled. "I hope there was a _reason_ for you coming?" she said pointedly. "Or are you just here to embarrass us?"

"I've always got a reason, Cagalli," the Demon said easily. "Even if it's just to drive you two crazy. But yeah, I've got an official reason for being here. Your father's holding a meeting tonight, with the _Archangel_'s officers; thought you might want to know beforehand. For one thing," she added, looking at Kira, "I expect you'll be wanting to get in proper uniform. Now that you and the _Hades_ have arrived, the Onogoro supply department's started turning out uniforms in the 'True ZAFT' pattern... so now you can ditch that Earth Forces suit." She frowned. "Besides, I'm not sure that shade of blue is quite your color, Kira."

Kira looked at his companion. "You've known her a few weeks now. Is she always like that?"

Cagalli sighed. "Yeah, pretty much..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

"Things sure have changed over the last few weeks, haven't they," Dearka murmured, looking up at the powerful machine known as Preybird. "Only a month ago, I was trying to take this ship down... and now I'm flying off it, in the uniform of a group of self-confessed traitors to ZAFT..."

"I know," Yzak agreed. "But... we don't really know what's going on anymore, do we? Everything we've learned about Chairman Zala lately, and Commander Le Creuset..." He shook his head. "I guess we didn't have much choice, did we? ZAFT's mission really _has_ changed... and the new one isn't what I signed up for."

"Welcome to our world, Yzak," Shiho said dryly. "This is the reality the Commander's been dealing with for eight months now; now it's time for us to do our part." She glanced at the fourth person in the chamber. "Fight the good fight, right, Grimaldi Falcon?"

"Yeah," Ken agreed quietly. "Fight the good fight... the _only_ fight, as far as I'm concerned..."

All four wore ZAFT red, with the patches of the ZAFT contingent of True ZAFT (the _Archangel_'s crew had patches with a PLANT superimposed over Earth, with a peregrine falcon soaring over both, to signify both their original allegiance to Earth and their new commitment to the PLANTs). Only Shiho and Ken wore the gray feathers, though; that mark remained exclusive to the members of the original Gray Demons (Kira only wore them on his flightsuit, and only because he was Ken's protégé... even if he _had_ apparently surpassed his teacher). A badge of those who had been with the unit that Earth had feared more than any other, prior to the formation of the Le Creuset team.

"So what _is_ your grand scheme, Commander?" Yzak asked. "I'm willing to follow it -better than getting stabbed in the back by Le Creuset again- but I'd at least like to know what it _is."_

"Tonight, Yzak," Ken promised. "When we meet with Lord Uzumi, I'll tell you all about it... about what we're trying to accomplish, and how." He nodded up at Preybird. "It's not as hopeless as it might seem; Preybird is only the tip of the iceberg. We've got a surprising amount of resources available to us... the only problem is time. Not enough of it, that is." He sighed. "Patrick... has lost sight of the original goal. He truly believes that Coordinators are an entirely new species... and to ensure _our_ survival, he intends to wipe out all Naturals... scour the Earth clean of them."

Dearka scratched his head. "You've talked about that before, but I've never understood it," he admitted. "How can he exterminate all Naturals? There's billions of them, and only tens of millions of us."

"There are a lot of different ways he might do it, amigo," Ken said quietly. "And if he still had me with him, he'd probably have done it already. For example, I've got a shrewd notion of how to build antimatter bombs -enough of those, and you can crack the entire planet open. But at this point, he no longer needs me... my old Shiva Option has become self-sustaining, blast it..."

"Well stop it, Boss," Shiho assured him. "It's not too late; we can still prevent it."

"I know..."

* * *

Onogoro Island Base, Conference Room

* * *

It was an interesting conglomeration of people that met that night, in one of Onogoro's conference rooms. Lord Uzumi Nara Athha wore the typical suit of an Orb politician, while Cagalli wore the white of an Orb commodore, and Ledonir Kisaka the dark blue of a Ground Forces colonel. Of the _Archangel_ contingent, Kira, Mu, Sophia, Dearka, Yzak, Shiho, Leanne, and Ken all wore red, while Murrue wore a white commander's uniform, Natarle dark gray, and Arnold Neumann standard green.

A colorful assembly, indeed... one which made the room seem slightly more crowded than it already was.

"It's good to see you all again," Uzumi began. "Though I must admit I found the timing somewhat... surprising; as well as the status of your ship. I'd heard about Alaska, of course, but..."

"I doubt you've heard the full story, Lord Uzumi," Mu said wearily. "Like how we were betrayed, used as bait... how the ZAFT forces were wiped out in one blow." He paused. "They used a Cyclops."

Uzumi stiffened. "A Cyclops system? That's... that seems somewhat of an extreme solution to me," he said slowly. "Even if it did the job, a Cyclops is not something used lightly under any circumstances..."

"It makes a certain tactical sense," Kisaka said unwillingly. "Ruthless, yes; a cold, calculating maneuver. But if it _was_ just the _Archangel_ and the Eurasian forces left there, it must've made sense to Alliance Headquarters: destroy over half of ZAFT's Earth-based fighting strength in one blow, and dispose of unwanted forces on their own side at the same time." He shook his head. "But only a man dedicated to a preposterous degree to his cause would even contemplate such a thing..."

"Muruta Azrael," Ken said quietly. "It had to've been him. Remember what I said about the Alliance essentially being a front for Blue Cosmos? He's the leader... and that's just the sort of decision he'd make."

Uzumi nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see that... but that still leaves the question of who gave them the intelligence about Spit Break in the first place."

"We've thought about that," Yzak put in, "and we've come up with only one likely candidate." His expression darkened. "Outside of Commander DiFalco and his people, only Chairman Zala and Commander Le Creuset had access to the true plan. Since Chairman Zala obviously didn't do it..."

Kisaka frowned. "But why? Le Creuset has long been one of ZAFT's most loyal -and dangerous- men; why would he betray his people that way?"

"We don't know," Murrue answered. "But according to Mu and Ken, Le Creuset _did_ know about the Cyclops... and chose not to warn his people about it. We find that a cause for great concern."

Uzumi frowned thoughtfully. "It may be even worse than that," he said slowly. "I don't know if any of you has considered this, but if Le Creuset is truly the one behind the disaster at Alaska, there's something even more dangerous that he might do."

Murrue tilted her head, puzzled... but Ken suddenly went white. "Son of a... Of course; how could I have been so blind?"

"What's wrong?" Mu demanded. "What are you talking about?"

Dearka swallowed. "I think he means Neutron-jammer cancellers, Mu," he said quietly. "Le Creuset may well be in a position to give that technology to the Earth Forces... and if that happens, everything might be lost."

Ken's fists clenched. "And then everything -_everything-_ I've done will have been in vain. That rotten bastard... if I see him again, I'll kill him for sure..."

"It's too early to be worrying about that," Uzumi pointed out quietly. "And even if it _were_ already a factor, there is little that can be done about it now."

"Yeah... you're right." The ace raised his head. "Then we've got other things to discuss, don't we?"

"Indeed." Uzumi stood, turning away. "I believe the time has come for all of you to make a choice," he said, voice contemplative. "You once stood with the Earth Forces, or with ZAFT; yet all of you, each for your own reasons, have abandoned your old allegiances. This is something your principles have demanded of you... but now it has left you with the question of where to go from here on."

"That really isn't much of a question, Lord Uzumi," Murrue said quietly. "Once, it might've been... but we've made our choice." She looked fondly at Ken.

Kira (who stood curiously close to Cagalli) nodded. "That's right, sir. We've all taken different paths to reach this point, but we've all decided. We're going to follow the path Ken and his people have made, to try and stop this war. I... I don't know how we're going to do it, but it's our best chance... and the only thing my conscience will let me do."

"That's right," Natarle agreed, somewhat to her own surprise. "A week ago, I would've been against this; but after Headquarters betrayed us, I'm afraid Commander DiFalco's path is the only one we can take. At least _he_ doesn't have a habit of using his people as tools."

"Not quite right," Sophia disagreed. "But at least those he uses walk into it with their eyes open." She glanced at her brother. "At least, they do when they know he's plotting in the first place."

Uzumi nodded to himself. "Then it seems we're on the same page," he murmured. "Orb has been working with Commander DiFalco for some months now; only preparation, so far, but we are willing to do our part, as well."

Cagalli blinked. "Father, you've been thinking about breaking our neutrality...?"

He shook his head. "No, Cagalli," he said gently. "You needn't fear that; and no, the G-weapon project was not begun in anticipation of this. No, it's merely that I've always been certain that our neutrality could not be maintained forever... so the Commander and I have made plans for the day when Orb is dragged into the war." He looked at the ace. "Commander? Perhaps it's time you explained exactly what is going on."

Murrue nodded firmly. "Yes, Ken; you've led us around long enough. Now it's time you told us what's really going on."

Ken nodded slowly. "Very well, then. This will take some time... but you're right. It's time for me to explain everything." He moved over to a wall screen, and turned it on. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said clearly, "I give you the Shiva Option."

Murrue felt as though a cold wind had blown through the room, hearing those words. _So, now we find out what it is that he's been doing all this time... and why he's brought us all into it._

"First," Ken began, "let me begin by explaining our resources; you'll find this to be quite relevant to the plan, I assure you." He brought up a set of eerily-familiar schematics... plans of a ship class they all knew well. "This is the mobile assault ship _Asmodeus,"_ he announced. "As you can see, she's based on the _Archangel_'s plans; construction began in February, when I was able to send a copy of the data to Sparky, along with Preybird's blueprints. The second ship of the _Archangel_-class, she is nearly identical to the original, save only more powerful energy weapons, and three fission reactors, deep within the hull. As of this moment, construction should be nearly complete, and a contingent of nuclear-powered GuAIZ machines should be aboard."

Mu frowned. "You sure are being free with the NJC data," he murmured. "Aren't you afraid of it falling into the wrong hands?"

The ace shrugged. "The genie is out of the bottle, Mu; all we can do now is make what use of it we can." The image changed, to an unfamiliar ship; long-nosed, with a centerline catapult and engine pods to either side of the main hull. Unsurprisingly, it was slate gray. "This is the prototype for the _Eternal_-class transports. Her name is _Arkbird, _and her construction actually began last year. She differs from the final design in that she's optimized for energy bombardment -note the laser-based point defense- and her METEOR units, unlike those of the _Eternal,_ are integral, used exclusively as ship-mounted turrets. The _Eternal_ herself, you may be interested to know, was intended to serve as a mothership for the Freedom and X09A Justice; though whether or not construction has continued, I don't know. Freedom's theft may have resulted in the project being discontinued. In any case, _Arkbird_'s construction should be not far behind _Asmodeus."_

Murrue nodded to herself. "You've been busy, Ken."

"Not much choice; we had to build virtually everything from scratch." The image changed one more time, to a familiar crimson, gray, and black mobile suit. "This, as you all know, is the ZGMF-X00A Preybird. I designed her myself, using data from the original six G-weapons as a base. She's nuclear-powered, and equipped with enough firepower to destroy a fleet. That, ladies and gentlemen, is not a joke." He paused a moment to let that sink in, and continued. "The outer frame, as you can see, closely resembles the Strike or the Raptor; that decision was made based on the Strike's obvious versatility. The inner frame, however, is quite different; recalling my problems with mobile suits going to pieces-" there was a general laugh at that, among the _Archangel_ contingent "-Tom Delaney and I incorporated artificial muscle tissue and synthetic nerve fibers, a new technology that allows the machine to move much like the human body. That, I suspect, may prove an advantage in the coming battles." Ken pointed at the black wings. "These wings have a threefold purpose: they provide added lift, much like those of the Freedom -which, you'll notice, are nearly identical- they have a power-absorbing surface for receiving satellite power transmission, and these sections here-" he pointed at the lower halves "fall away to become independent weapons, known as a Disconnect Rapid Armament Group Overlook Operation Network, or DRAGOON system. Ten independent units, each with four laser emitters; they fly in Earth's gravity through their aerodynamic shape and sheer thruster power."

Mu nodded. "A handy system," he commented. "Allows for targeting multiple enemies at once."

"True," Ken acknowledged. "But the primary intention is to direct as much firepower against a single target as possible. Now," he continued, "on the hips there are, like the Freedom, a pair of Xiphias rail cannons; above them are stored Lacerta beam sabers, and the Talon beam rifles can be attached to the rail cannons when not in use. Stored here, above the left saber, is a Gerbera Straight beam-deflection sword; not originally part of the design, my friend Lowe Guele gave the specs to Tom Delaney, who happens to be quite good at forging such blades. On the shoulders are beam boomerangs; not something that I expect to use much, but," he admitted, "I was intent on giving the machine every advantage I could." He pointed at the left arm. "And here is a bit of technology I stole from the Eurasians, at Artemis: a light-wave barrier. Impenetrable to any known weapon, it grants Preybird formidable defensive capabilities."

Mu whistled. "That's... quite a lot of firepower you've got there." He nodded at the wings. "So, what about those cannons? That's what we used at Alaska, right?"

Ken nodded. "Yes. Remember the third function of the wings, as power receptors? In Earth orbit, there are fifteen power-transmission satellites, with two spares each, hidden under Mirage Colloid. They're fission-powered, and their purpose is to transmit power to Preybird in order to fire the twin satellite cannon. It is, essentially, an antimatter cannon; one with such energy requirements that the onboard powerplant isn't sufficient." He turned off the screen. "We call it a space superiority mobile suit, or, as Tom likes to say, a battlefield dominator."

Murrue slowly shook her head. "With that much firepower, it's a wonder you need a plan at all..."

His expression turned serious. "Murrue, we _have_ the capability to take over the PLANTs... but that isn't the objective. However, it's true that the Shiva Option isn't terribly subtle." He folded his hand behind his back. "What it is, essentially, is a carefully-plotted slugging match. When it all comes together, in space, the job is basically to whittle down both sides, attacking isolated forces, until we can launch one final attack to end the war."

Kira's eyes narrowed. "You're suggesting forcing a final engagement between the Earth Forces and ZAFT," he said quietly.

Ken nodded gravely. "It's the only option, Kira. As it stands now, the two sides will never come to the negotiating table; and I do not have the forces to take on both sides as they are now. I don't like a battle of attrition anymore than you do, but we have little choice. Because of... because of... Never mind."

Mu shot him a sharp look. "No, Ken," he said slowly, "I don't think I'll accept that answer this time. That machine of yours wasn't designed with that much firepower for nothing; a lone mobile suit isn't usually intended to take on an entire fleet all by itself." His voice hardened. "I've heard you make references to something called 'GENESIS'. So just what is it, and why are you so terrified of it?"

Ken closed his eye, and was silent for a full minute. "You wanna know?" he said at last. "Fine. Gamma Emission by Nuclear Explosion Stimulus Induction System. GENESIS."

Murrue cocked her head, puzzled by the barely-suppressed rage that had suddenly burned to life in her young friend... and the terror that clearly underlay it. "What does that mean?" she asked carefully.

"What it means," he said in precise, measured tones, "is that there is a weapon that fires concentrated streams of gamma radiation -like a gamma ray equivalent to a laser- at a specific target, using a nuclear bomb as the trigger and mirrors to focus the blast. The resulting gamma ray beam can penetrate anything short of a light-wave barrier, destroy any installation, even an entire fleet... or, with two shots, scour a planet clean of life. In fact, repeated shots would probably crack Earth to pieces." He closed his eye in anguish. "And I'm the sorry bastard who created it!"

The shocked silence that filled the room wasn't limited to those who were only now learning of GENESIS' existence; even Leanne and Shiho hadn't realized their Boss had created the weapon himself. They'd known he was in charge of construction, but...

_No wonder,_ Murrue thought numbly. _No wonder he's been scared, all this time; and this... this is the sin he talked about, his reason for fighting. Oh, Ken... you created a weapon that could undo everything you've worked for, all this time..._

Mu finally broke the silence. "Why, Falcon? Why did you invent something like that?"

"The purpose to which Patrick has put it was _not_ my idea," Ken said tightly. "It was originally intended as an FACM."

Cagalli frowned. "FACM?"

"Fleet Action Counter-Measure," he explained. "Actually, it was originally intended as a power source for solar sails, but in the wake of the Bloody Valentine, I realized that it could be used to destroy Earth Alliance fleets before they got in range to attack. But, since it uses nuclear weapons, it couldn't be used..."

"...Until the advent of Neutron-jammer cancellers," Murrue finished. "Which is why you've been so frightened since you obtained Preybird. Oh, Ken..."

"I don't deserve any sympathy," Ken said tightly. "I may be responsible for the extinction of the human race; and Preybird is our only chance of stopping it."

"How?" Kira asked. "How can one mobile suit...?"

"I expect they've added Phase-shift armor to the design by now," the ace explained obliquely. "But I wasn't a total fool; I made sure there was one weak point, in case it _did_ need to be destroyed. Only a mobile suit can get to it, though, and a massive energy bombardment is necessary to penetrate."

"Hence, Preybird," Murrue murmured. "The battlefield dominator... something that can fight its way to its objective on its own if it has to, and then destroy it utterly..." She stood, and walked over to him. "This isn't your fault, Ken," she said quietly, squeezing his shoulder. "You couldn't have known..."

"I should've," Ken said bitterly. "I should've seen what Patrick had become, after the Bloody Valentine..."

"Even if you should've," Kira put in, "which I think is a little too much to expect, at least you've been trying to put it right." He paused. "I think... I understand you a little better now." He looked up. "And we're all behind you, Ken."

"That's right," Cagalli agreed.

"Indeed." Lord Uzumi turned to face them again. "It appears you've all made your choice," he said quietly. "And his I can tell you: Orb is with you."

The assembled members of the _Archangel_'s crew, and the representatives of the True ZAFT faction exchanged nods. They had a mission now... and even if it was one of their own who had made it necessary in the first place, they were all united in this.

No matter what tragedies might await, they were together.

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has returned to Orb, and the varied elements of the True ZAFT faction have begun to come together. Meanwhile, Athrun begins to question his own loyalties…

Okay, this is a little late; but most of you know why. In any case, I hope the wait was worth it… and believe me, everything changes from here. There will be a lot of departures from canon from now on…

Well, let me know how it was. -Solid Shark


	30. Chapter 30: Red Sky At Night

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar, May 16th, C.E. 71

* * *

A day after the _Archangel_ had reached safe haven in Orb at last, Ken and Dearka stood in the hangar, discussing the status of the ship's various mobile suits. Now that they finally had time to relax, they needed to be ready. 

"...So what exactly is it that Morgenroete plans to do with my mobile suit?" Dearka was asking, gazing at the space where the Buster was usually parked. "This morning they just carted the thing away, saying something about making 'improvements'; what on earth are they talking about?"

Ken shrugged. "How should I know? I _do_ know that Shiho and the _Hades_ crew gave Morgenroete the specs for the N-jammer canceller, though."

His friend gazed at him oddly. "I thought I heard something about a promise to Miss Lacus about how that data would be used...?"

The ace smiled slightly. "Kira promised; I didn't. Look, Dearka, the Shiva Option isn't just the Preybird; it's theoretically capable of fighting its way to GENESIS all by itself... but I would rather not have to try. Besides, we need all the firepower we can get just to protect the _Archangel;_ you guys proved that when you blew us out of the sky on our way here the first time."

Dearka shook his head. "As I remember it, _our_ team came off even worse than the _Archangel_ did. When Leanne swooped in with Preybird... Hey, that reminds me: just how _do_ Leanne and Mu know each other? They greeted each other like old friends or something..."

Ken shook his head. "Beats me, Dearka; that's something that I intend to pry out of them, next time I see them. I'm getting tired of not being in the know. I always thought _I_ was supposed to be the one with all the secrets..."

"Hey, Ken!" a new voice called. "I thought I might find you here."

They both turned, to see Cagalli coming toward them. Dearka tilted his head at the sight; there was something about her, something he'd noticed before, but couldn't quite pin down... _Wait a minute,_ he thought in shock. _She looks like..._

Ken nodded. "I know, Dearka," he said quietly. "She looks a lot like her, doesn't she." It wasn't a question.

Cagalli looked at _both_ of them strangely, but shrugged it off. "We haven't had a chance to talk since you got back," she said, smiling. "Besides, I thought you might still be in a funk." She gripped Ken's shoulder affectionately. "It really _isn't_ your fault, you know."

The ace grimaced. "So people keep telling me."

She shook her head, and turned her attention to her friend's companion. "We haven't been properly introduced," she noted. "You're Ken's best friend, right? The guy he kept trying _not_ to shoot down?"

Dearka nodded, sticking out a hand. "That's right. I'm Dearka, Dearka Elsman." He raised an eyebrow. "So you were Falcon's gunner, huh? Back before Raptor fell apart?"

Cagalli smiled. "That's me. Cagalli Yula Athha, heir of Orb... though if you call me a princess, I'll shoot you. Fair warning."

He turned to the ace. "Is she bluffing?"

Ken shook his head. "Nope. And if she couldn't shoot you for some reason, she could just tear you apart. She beat _me_ once, you know."

Dearka looked at him in disbelief. "You're kidding."

"Uh-uh. Cagalli here was still a little suspicious of me... no, a _lot_ suspicious. Thought I was Rau's intelligence source at Heliopolis, among other things. So, we had a little set-to... and she won."

Cagalli shook her head. "I didn't win; if I hadn't knocked your eyepatch off, you'd have taken _me_ apart in the end. I may be good, but I don't think I'm quite in your league."

Dearka winced. "Knocked off the eyepatch? Ouch; you'd have been in Africa about then... so the thermal effect must've been..."

Ken nodded. "It hurt. A lot. On the other hand, the end result was that she decided I wasn't really a ZAFT agent after all. That came in handy, a time or two; having a gunner made dealing with Victor a little easier once or twice." He rubbed his eyepatch. "I daresay, though, that she gets along even better with Kira than with me... which is ironic, since one of the first things she ever said to him was 'Let go of me, you jerk'."

Cagalli glared at him. "And just what, exactly, is _that_ supposed to mean? Are you trying to imply something, Ken?"

"Perish the thought," he murmured in response. "Just stating facts, that's all."

She snorted. "Your habit of 'stating facts', as you put it, is what got you into this mess in the first place" Then, seeing his face tighten, she realized what she'd just said. "I didn't mean it that way, Ken," she said hastily. "It's not your fault what Zala's doing with your work. You couldn't have known..."

"So people keep telling me," Ken said again. "But I'm none too sure I believe it. Blast it, Cagalli, I _invented_ the cursed thing; I should've been able to see what somebody like Patrick could do with it. I knew it could be used to destroy entire fleets -that was what I intended to do with it myself- so it should've occurred to me that it could _also_ be used to wipe out the entire planetary population."

Cagalli sighed. "Ken, for as long as we've been partners you've insisted on taking too much responsibility for these things. Look, while it's true you came up with the design, saying that it's your fault what someone else might do with it is like saying that the men of the Manhattan Project were responsible for the Bloody Valentine. The maker is _not_ responsible for everything other people do with his creations."

He closed his eye. "Maybe that's true... but I'm still responsible for ending it. No matter what the cost... GENESIS will be stopped. Even if..." He shook himself. "Never mind; I'm just rambling. Bad habit, but an inevitable consequence of my anxiousness." The ace smiled wryly. "I'm lucky I haven't gone mad yet."

"Yet," Dearka said laconically.

"Shut up," Ken told him, rolling his eye. He turned to Cagalli. "Now, there's something Dearka and I were discussing when you came in; maybe you've got some idea. Just what is Morgenroete doing with the Duel and the Buster?"

She shrugged. "Beats me. All I know is, that ship of yours, the _Hades,_ seems to be busy building N-jammer cancellers; at least two, though I think I heard Leanne say something about building a couple extras... beats me what they'd do with them, though."

"Mm; I figured." He rubbed his eyepatch. "You know, it's usually _me_ keeping secrets; I find this kind of unnerving, almost..."

Cagalli laughed. "About time you had a taste of your own medicine, Ken; now you know how _we_ felt, every time you pulled another rabbit out of your hat." She sobered for a moment. "So, you really _do_ have forces gathering, up in space, huh?"

Ken nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, the Shiva Option is almost ready... but there are things we need to do here, first. For one thing, I highly doubt either ship is ready, and for another... I suspect Orb won't be left alone by the Earth Forces forever. We may have to stick around a little while, and help fight them off."

"You really think it'll come to that?"

He sighed. "I honestly don't know, partner. It's not something I thought about much, when I was still with ZAFT; back then, I was mostly concerned with what the Alliance would do to _us._ Orb... wasn't something I paid much attention to, aside from noting that you guys seemed intent on staying out of the war. Something for which I was grateful, I can assure you."

"Yeah," Dearka agreed, "you people sure have a lot of neat stuff; you perfected mobile suit energy weapons a lot faster than we did, for one thing. _We_ had to steal it from the Earth Forces."

Cagalli frowned; this discussion was getting a little closer to serious topics than she'd intended it to. _Time to change the subject,_ she decided. _And I know just what to talk about..._

"So, Dearka," she began innocently, "I hear you've had an... interesting time on the _Archangel,_ since you were captured."

"Yeah, you could say that," Dearka agreed, puzzled. "Anything particular you're thinking of, though? It's _all_ been pretty strange."

"Well, I seem to have heard something about Miriallia trying to kill you a few weeks back, before saving your life... and Ken says you've seen a lot of each other since then."

Buster's pilot turned to glare briefly at his friend, who merely shrugged. "It's not what you're thinking," he said irritably to Cagalli. "Okay, so we have lunch sometimes; but it's not like that!" A new thought occurred to him. _Time to turn the tables..._ "So, what's this I hear about you and Kira? Just about inseparable, or so Mu says."

Cagalli flushed, and glared at him. "We're just good friends, that's all!" she snapped. "Okay, so we get along real well. So what?" She jerked her head at the ace. "Seems to me that there's been more talk about him and Captain Ramius lately than about me and Kira!"

The reaction that remark elicited surprised her. Ken stiffened, his face taking on the mask-like expression of old; an air of coldness seemed to form around him, and he stalked out of the hangar without a word.

Cagalli watched him go, confused. "What did I say?"

Dearka sighed. "Ken doesn't like to talk about it," he said quietly. "And I probably shouldn't tell you the full story; that's his place, not mine. But... let's just say that he lost someone close to him once... and he's not been too interested in forming another relationship since. When somebody brings it up, he either gets angry and snaps at you... or he does that basilisk act you just saw, and leaves." He leaned against a bulkhead. "Frankly, though... I wish the rumors about him and the Captain _were_ true. The Bloody Valentine... it's still an open wound for him. He needs to heal, and I don't think he can do it on his own..."

* * *

Morgenroete, Hangar

* * *

"These Astrays sure are impressive machines," Sophia murmured, looking up at the rows of MBF-M1s lining the hangar. "Better than just about anything ZAFT has, for sure." 

"Except for the new GuAIZ model," Mu agreed. "Which I still don't know much about, aside from that nuclear-powered variant of Huckebein's we ran into at Alaska. Yeah, the M1 should eat a GINN or a DINN for breakfast... or so I judge from the fact that _Hades_ traded her DINNs for Astrays this morning."

Her eyebrows went up. "Did they, now? What about Shiho's CGUE DEEP Arms?"

The Hawk snorted. "From what Falcon's told me, there's no way she'd give up that machine. Apparently, it was in competition with the GuAIZ for ZAFT's next-generation mass-produced model, and lost; but she was test pilot for the prototype, and stuck with it anyway."

"Her choice, I guess; ZAFT seems to give their pilots a lot more leeway than the Alliance ever did." Sophia smiled up at an Astray. "I managed to talk Cagalli into transferring one of these babies to the _Archangel,_ by the way; I'm not gonna be stuck in a mobile armor any more."

Mu nodded. "Not a bad idea; I may have to pull a few strings myself. I have the feeling mobile armors are pretty obsolete now, and I'd rather not have to face the next-generation machines in a Skygrasper if I can help it. It's amazing we survived as long as we did, flying those things."

"That's the truth. Had a few close calls along the way, as it was." She ran a hand through her shoulder-length black hair. "I'm not sure we'd have made it, at Alaska, if Kira hadn't turned up again when he did. Even Preybird isn't invincible... and neither is its pilot," she added wryly.

"Yeah," he agreed, remembering when his brother's heart had given out at a most inopportune moment. "Say," he added, "speaking of Kira... did you notice how much alike he and the princess look? They might almost be siblings..."

"No," Sophia said firmly. "Any resemblance between those two is coincidence; there's no relation between them in any way."

Mu looked at her strangely. "You sound pretty definite there, Sophia. Do you know something...?"

She nodded unwillingly. "Yeah, I do... but I'd really prefer not to go into it. I don't have all the details myself, and I see no reason to discuss it -especially with Kira- until I know more."

His eyes narrowed. "Metzinger's files?" he said slowly. "What could those have to do with...?"

Sophia sighed. "Look, Mu, it's a long story, and, like I said, I don't know everything myself. But take my word for it: Kira and Cagalli are _not_ related."

_If they were,_ she thought to herself, _I'd know. I've decoded enough of Metzinger's files regarding his work with Hibiki to know that much... and correlating the genetic information I got on Cagalli with Kira's data, there's no way they're related. Or if they are, the connection's as distant as any between Falcon and Murrue..._

Mu, having decided it wasn't worth it to pursue the subject, now chuckled to himself, thinking of something else. "You know, Sophia, there's something I've been meaning to ask: just how well _did_ Murrue and Falcon know each other, before Heliopolis?"

Sophia frowned, thinking. "Hard to say," she said at last. "Murrue visited home with me quite a few times, while we were at the academy; Falcon would've been... let's see... nine through thirteen, I think, when we were at the academy. By the time we graduated, given his... unusual genetics... he was much like a Natural sixteen-year-old. I wasn't sure at the time, but since he joined ZAFT at fifteen and designed GENESIS -quite the feat of engineering- that same year... yeah, he'd have been old enough they might've known each other pretty well."

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean you're not sure?"

She shrugged. "Remember, Mu, that was around the time Falcon and I started to drift apart. To be honest, I tried to stay out of his way when I could, 'cause he was starting to scare me. Metzinger's influence, of course," she explained. "But Murrue didn't know about any of that, so she wouldn't have had those problems. I _do_ know she knew him well enough to be surprised by the change in his personality when he arrived aboard _Archangel,_ though." She shrugged again. "Any particular reason you're suddenly curious about this?"

It was Mu's turn to shrug. "I dunno... it's just that they seem to be getting along pretty well these days. I mean, there's, what, eight years between them, but still..."

Sophia chuckled. "Eight years doesn't mean as much as you might think, Mu; not when Falcon's a Coordinator. Remember, he was making long-range strategic plans when he was sixteen, and fighting battles well enough to give _you_ trouble. Mentally, he's easily in his twenties; intellectually and emotionally as stable and mature as a Natural adult. In fact, as of next month he'll _be _an adult... by Natural standards. By Coordinator standards -which are really the only ones that should be applied to him- he already is."

He scratched his head. "So, something happening between them isn't _totally_ inconceivable, then."

The Kestrel hesitated. "Well, a month ago I'd have said it was; back then, Falcon had all the apparent warm feelings of a brick. But now... Ever since Alaska, he's been a little more willing to show that there really _is_ a human being under there, however deeply he may be buried beneath the cold strategist. I'm beginning to think that... something happened to him, probably at the Bloody Valentine, that did this to him... and now he's finally starting to come out of his shell." She nodded slowly. "So, no... I don't think it's inconceivable at all."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Aboveground Dock

* * *

It was sunset when Murrue Ramius emerged out into the open air, not far from Orb's _official_ naval base at Onogoro. She'd come out here in search of Ken... who had mysteriously disappeared earlier in the day. She'd checked with Dearka and Cagalli, only to learn that the last they'd seen of the ace, he was stalking out of the _Archangel_'s hangar, apparently brooding. 

Cagalli had been puzzled, but Dearka simply had a knowing look; and Murrue knew why. Unlike Cagalli, she knew _exactly_ what Dearka had been talking about... though the blonde pilot hadn't told her exactly what had led to the topic being raised, and she suspected she didn't want to know.

_What I don't know won't embarrass me or make me want to make them walk the plank,_ she thought to herself. _But the question remains... where _is _he?_

To her surprise, Kira was also out there, watching the sunset. Sitting on a small hill overlooking the docks, he was in civilian clothing -khaki pants, blue shirt, and light, white jacket. It was the first time in awhile Murrue had seen him in a civilian outfit, but she supposed it made sense. The _Archangel_ might've joined Ken's shadowy organization, and allied with Orb, but it still wouldn't do to advertise the uniforms just yet.

"Hi, Murrue," Kira greeted, noticing her approach (like the rest of the crew, he'd mostly abandoned ranks). "What are _you_ doing out here so late?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it late," she replied, "though I'll admit there are probably several other things I ought to be doing right now; but on the other hand, there's not much _to_ do until the ship's fully repaired." Murrue sighed. "Actually, I was looking for Ken; he hasn't been seen since a little after lunch, as near as I can find out."

He nodded. "He's out there," he told her, pointing toward the sunset; in the deep red sky.

She frowned, puzzled. "Out there...?" Murrue almost asked what the pilot meant, until she caught sight of a long, narrow wing-shape in the sky, and the eerie call of a peregrine falcon drifted toward her. "He's..."

"Yeah," Kira agreed. "Hang gliding." He nodded at the glider, out in the distance. "I think it's the gravity," he mused, almost to himself. "Or maybe just being on-planet; either way, he doesn't like being on the ground. I think... I think this is his way of getting closer to the sky, to space, where he's always lived; gravity keeps pulling him back, but he longs for the freedom of space..."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "You're quite the poet tonight, Kira."

He shrugged. "It's the way he thinks," the pilot said quietly. "No, more like the way he _is..._ He's not so different from the bird he mimics, you know. There's a killer inside him, for sure... but it's not personal. He doesn't kill because he likes to, he does it because he _has_ to; at least, in his mind. His mission became his life, and killing became an unavoidable part of it." Kira looked out at the sky, watching the glider soar over the sea. "And like the falcon, he belongs up there, in the sky; as long as his feet are on the ground, he's not happy, because... because he isn't himself, down here."

She nodded slowly. "'The snake, knowing itself, strikes swiftly,'" she quoted softly. "I didn't realize how much he truly hated planets... but I guess I should've, especially after he got lost in the ocean."

Kira lay back on the grass. "You know, people used to think that the world was governed by four elements: wind, water, earth, and fire; sometimes I almost think that's true. If it is... then Ken's the wind, and he doesn't like the Earth much. He doesn't belong here, you know."

"Yes," Murrue agreed. "I know. But he doesn't, does he? He thinks he's responsible for how the war has gone, and he just won't listen to anyone else..."

"Right; so he tries to forget it, bury it within him. Just like whatever happened at the Bloody Valentine, he's tried to forget about GENESIS, and just concentrate on the practical aspects of his mission." Kira frowned contemplatively. "I think... that's why he doesn't get much sleep. He never talks about it, but I think he has nightmares, nightmares caused by trying to keep it all in. He thinks he has to do everything himself..."

"Well," she said quietly, "it may be true that only he can stop GENESIS -he's the only one who can fly Preybird to its fullest, and the only one who knows the exact spot to fire at- but that doesn't mean the rest of us can't help him. Even _he_ should realize it; otherwise, why would he have gathered so many forces, in this 'Shiva Option' of his?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure he thinks of it that way... but you're right." The young pilot looked up again, and titled his head. "He's coming back," he informed Murrue. "Heading this way."

The call of the peregrine falcon drifted toward them again, and then she saw it: the glider turning toward land, soaring lazily back. _He must've seen us,_ Murrue realized. Not a surprise, really; despite his eyepatch, Ken's eyesight was very nearly as keen as that of the bird he mimicked. And now, having noticed people watching him -and, more than likely, _who_ had been watching him- the ace had apparently decided to come in for a landing.

Somewhere in the interval, Kira had made a discrete departure; and now the glider slid smoothly through the air toward the hill. When it was within a few meters of the ground, it flared up, and Ken's feet touched the ground as easily as though stepping off a staircase.

"I'd forgotten you were into hang gliding," Murrue remarked, when the ace had extricated himself from the fragile wing. "I see you've kept in practice."

Ken shrugged. "When I started, back when I was thirteen, it was just a hobby; but I don't like full gravity, so it's something of a relief, here on Earth. A way to get away from it for awhile." He raised an eyebrow. "So, what brings you out here?"

It was her turn to shrug. "I was looking for you, actually. I'd been told no one had seen you since around lunch, so... Besides, I was afraid you might be brooding again."

He glanced out to sea. "There's a certain truth to that," he admitted. "GENESIS is something I've tried to forget, these last few months. But I guess... I guess it's something I can't just walk away from. It's my responsibility, my sin against the world... something for which I must atone."

Murrue shook her head. "Are you ever going to accept that what Patrick Zala is doing isn't your fault?"

"No," Ken said flatly. "I came up with the plan, I was in charge of construction... and I was the one who came up with the concept in the first place."

She tilted her head. "Just how did the GENESIS project come about, anyway?" she asked, partly to redirect the conversation and partly because she was genuinely curious. "I remember you said something about solar sails, but you didn't really explain it."

He folded himself into a cross-legged position on the ground. "It was back when I was at the academy," he said slowly, thinking back. "There was talk back then of making an expedition to another star; and we needed a new kind of propulsion to do it. So, I started thinking about the problem, and came up with what would later be known as the Gamma Emission by Nuclear Explosion Stimulus Induction System. What it consisted of, originally, was simply a long, well-armored firing chamber, in which a nuclear cartridge would be detonated. This would be mounted on the bow of the ship in question, positioned just behind a solar sail."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "In some ways, that reminds me of the old Orion drive concept."

Ken nodded. "Right, where you have a heavily-armored backplate on your ship, you kick out a nuclear bomb, and let the explosion propel you; except GENESIS used the resulting gamma radiation, not the explosion itself, to put 'wind' in the solar sail, allowing the ship to accelerate much more quickly than with a more conventional reaction drive." He closed his eye. "Unfortunately... I also figured out how to make it into a weapon. You see, when Patrick transferred me to the Special Forces, he wanted me to find a way to protect the PLANTs more effectively; and I turned my engineering talents to finding, for want of a better term, a superweapon. It was then that I realized that GENESIS could, with a few modifications, be just the 'Fleet Action Counter-Measure' I was looking for."

"How does it work?" she asked, fascinated now. "It seems to me that there's a lot of difference between powering solar sails and blowing entire planets to rubble."

"There is," he agreed. "But the basic principle is the same. What you do is add a disposable alignment mirror to the rig, floating in front of the firing chamber. When the initial stream of gamma rays are fired, they bounce off the alignment mirror, and hit a _second_ mirror, affixed around the firing chamber. That mirror then bounces the gamma radiation back into space, in a concentrated 'beam' with far more power than the original blast." He shook his head. "One shot from that would burn ninety-percent of Earth's surface; a second shot would finish any survivors, and a third would probably blow it to pieces."

Murrue winced. "I can see now why you thought you could stop entire fleets with it. So how do you _stop_ it, if Zala manages to fire it in the first place?"

Ken rubbed his eyepatch. "The primary weakness of the GENESIS apparatus is the inability to fire consecutive shots. The power of the gamma ray beam ruins the alignment mirror, so it has to be replaced after every shot. That process is estimated to take several hours at the least; probably longer the first time, since nobody's ever done it before." He sighed. "The Shiva Option, unfortunately, has a timetable that will almost guarantee that Zala has the chance to fire at least one shot. We need to make sure that both sides are weakened to the extent that each will see the other as vulnerable to a final attack... the only problem being that if Patrick sees his position as that vulnerable, he will almost certainly fire GENESIS."

She nodded slowly. "And when that happens, we have only a few hours to bring it all to an end."

"Exactly. That's where Preybird comes in; it's the only machine that can get there fast enough to do the job before it all goes down... not to mention being the only machine with sufficient firepower to attack the weak point." The ace lay back, eye falling closed. "And then..."

Murrue glanced at him. "And then... what?"

He shrugged. "I have not the faintest idea. No simulation we've run has been able to determine exactly what will happen when the Nataraja twin satellite cannon -a positron weapon, remember- is fired at the core of GENESIS. With all the nuclear weapons there, and a matter/antimatter chain reaction... Come to think of it, we're not sure what will happen when I charge the thing up. If nothing else, by then Preybird will undoubtedly have sustained damage, and if any of the wings are gone, the power spike..." Ken shook his head. "We just don't know, Murrue. All I can say is this: one way or another, it will all be over when the Shiva Option reaches the final stage."

She frowned, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. "Speaking of the Shiva Option," she began slowly, changing the subject, "it began even before Alaska, didn't it? There were a few too many coincidences during the _Archangel_'s journey..."

Ken smiled a little at that. "No coincidence; as you obviously suspect. As a matter of fact, Lacus Clyne wasn't just carrying the blueprints for Preybird and the _Archangel_-class when she returned to the PLANTs. She was also delivering orders to my people. _Archangel_ was now a priority for the Gray Demons; as soon as Sparky and the others could get forces into position, the ship was to be protected at all costs. Admittedly, it took awhile; but from the time the _Archangel_ left Africa to when we reached Alaska, we were in true danger exactly twice: when we were just leaving Orb, and the immediate aftermath of the loss of the Strike. At other times... Well, _Hades_ trailed us much of the way. They were responsible for destroying Marco Morassim's ship, and you of course remember when Preybird saved our hides on the way into Orb."

Murrue nodded. "So you had people watching us virtually every step of the way," she murmured. "But... there's one thing I don't understand."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

She turned to face him. "You told us, just last night, that you have another _Archangel_-class under construction, as well as something completely new; not to mention your obvious mobile suit construction capacity. So... why _did_ you return to the _Archangel,_ at Alaska? You didn't _need_ us; once you were safely off, with your mobile suit at your beck and call, you could just rendezvous with your people, and continue the fight yourself. So why come back?"

Ken was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it was in a quiet, contemplative voice. "When I came aboard the _Archangel,"_ he began, "at Heliopolis, I was absolutely committed to my mission. To me, the world consisted of tactical and strategic problems, and people, by and large, were merely chess pieces, the pieces that would decide the fate of the greater game. To put it in a simpler way, I only allowed myself to think in terms of numbers and battle strategies; individuals were far less important than the overall goal of protecting the PLANTs. But... being with the ship changed that. People like you, who tempered duty with humanity; people like Kira, seemingly naive but with, in some ways, a better understanding of the world than I had." He rubbed his eyepatch again. "Make no mistake, Murrue: I am, to an extent, an arrogant man. I admit that; just as I hold that, on the field of battle or in the war room, that arrogance is at least partly justified. But when I first joined the crew, I knew _nothing_ about people. All that was locked away, forbidden to interfere with the plan."

Murrue narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "And now?"

"Now I've decided that I still know what friendship is," he said quietly. "And that there are certain people I'd like to get to know a little better." There was a peculiar glint in his eye when he turned to her. "Understand something, Murrue: I'm still the most ruthless bastard you're likely to meet; even now, protecting the PLANTs is still my top priority. But... there are some things that I want to learn again, from you, from Mu, from Kira... even Cagalli, sharp-tongued though she may be. I... don't quite understand why you fight, any of you; except maybe Cagalli. She's in this for Orb. But the rest of you? I just don't understand; none of you have any kind of personal stake in this. Kira confuses me most, to be honest. He's made up his mind to stop this war, with a minimum of bloodshed... and I just don't see what there is in this for him."

She considered that for a time in silence. It was something she'd never really thought of... but now that she _did,_ it seemed obvious that Ken had little experience with genuine idealists. He himself was motivated by a fanatical devotion to the PLANTs -and probably, though he would never admit it, a desire for vengeance for the Bloody Valentine- as were most of his fellows in ZAFT. Patrick Zala himself was motivated by the same thing, to a lesser extent... as well as vengeance for his wife's death, a desire to destroy all Naturals... and, just perhaps, a desire for power.

So in the Grimaldi Falcon's experience, idealists were probably extremely rare; and so he couldn't understand them. Enlightened self-interest, a desire to protect, or just plain vengeance were concepts he could comprehend, but someone who fought as Kira did, for an ideal, when he could've stayed out of the war without risking the lives of anyone important to him...

"I don't know if anyone can explain it to you in words," Murrue said slowly. "I understand your problem, but I think this is something you have to experience for yourself. I guess you'll just have to stick around for awhile." She frowned suddenly. "But you know, don't you, that Kira _will_ oppose you, in some of the actions you propose."

Ken nodded soberly. "Yeah, Murrue; I know. In this, I'm afraid the problem is partly that, unlike me, he's not a student of military history. I may not understand _why_ he has his ideals, but I understand the ideals themselves; and I also know that they can't be achieved the way he'd prefer. I don't like the bloodshed anymore than he does... but in war, there's no other option. To bring it to an end, lives must be sacrificed." He rubbed his eyepatch. "'The tree of liberty must be watered from time to time with the blood of patriots'," he quoted. "And this, unfortunately is one of those times; with my knowledge of history, I see that. The war can't last forever... but the sort of single, bold stroke Kira would prefer just won't work."

She slowly shook her head. "To be honest, I don't know which of you is correct," she admitted. "I tend to think that Kira is right... but on the other hand, I don't have your expertise in the area. I guess we'll just have to see what course this war takes; that's the only way to see which of you is right."

"Mm..." He nodded slightly. "Yes, you're probably right. To be perfectly honest, though, I'd _prefer_ Kira was right; I just don't think he is." The ace gazed into the now-fading sunset. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight," he murmured. "If the sky is any indication, we should have a little time to rest... and determine what course we'll take from here."

* * *

PLANTs, Maius Four, ZAFT Hangar, May 17th, C.E. 71

* * *

It was six days since the meeting in the White Symphony Theater; and now Athrun Zala, his arm healed at last, now prepared to depart the PLANTs on his new assignment. He sat in the cockpit of ZGMF-X09A Justice, and waited for the technical personnel to finish readying his machine for launch. 

While he waited patiently, he mused on the events that had brought him here. He had been ordered to track down destroy the Freedom, and anyone who had come into contact with it... but unknown to his father, his mission had already failed.

_Father doesn't know about Preybird,_ Athrun thought to himself. _Or this "True ZAFT" faction's total willingness to use the NJC technology to accomplish their goals. And even if Cooper and his people _weren't _still at large, the only way I'd be able to take down the Freedom -and Kira- would be to get through Ken DiFalco and his Preybird... and I don't think I'm capable of it. Justice is a powerful machine, but that pilot, and that mobile suit..._

The problem was that the Grimaldi Falcon hadn't gotten the highest kill score in ZAFT by being incompetent. He was, in fact, a _highly_ dangerous adversary, who had defeated everything that ever tried to get in his way... including a number of ZAFT pilots. And that had been when he was still piloting the Earth Forces machine, the Raptor; in Preybird, from what Athrun had seen, there were only a tiny handful of pilots who could hope to challenge him... and Athrun Zala wasn't certain he was one of them.

_Kira could,_ he thought to himself, _but Kira's something else... and with a better idea of just how the Grimaldi Falcon fights. I _might _be able to take him, in an even contest, but against that new machine, Justice wouldn't be _in _an even contest; not with all that firepower._ Not to mention the fact that Preybird appeared to be optimized for close-combat to an even greater extent than the Justice.

In any case, Athrun's mission was already hopeless, even before it began... and he wasn't certain he wanted to try. Lacus' revelations about Kira's survival, and why the breakaway faction the Gray Demons had formed fought against ZAFT, had made him question what he was doing... and his father's attitude hadn't helped any. All of which meant that Athrun's loyalty was being sorely tested... something made worse by Lacus' statement that she still cared for him.

_No,_ he decided. _I can't carry out this assignment. But... do I just gather enough data to _prove _to my father that it's impossible, and return... or do I go the route Cooper and DiFalco have already taken? Which is the right path?_

There was only one thing he _knew_ to do at this point: he had to find Kira, and talk with him. Maybe then... his own inner quandary would be resolved.

Athrun's reverie was broken by a radio transmission. _"All systems check out, Justice,"_ the duty flight-control officer reported. _"All umbilicals are detached; you're clear to launch."_ As he spoke, the massive hatch above the mobile suit slid open, revealing a long launch tunnel.

"Roger that," Athrun acknowledged. _Here we go..._ "This is Athrun Zala. ZGMF-X09A Justice, launching!" Putting words into action, he pressed his foot down on the vernier control, and the red machine, strongly resembling his old Aegis, leapt into the tunnel, and out into space...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar, May 25th, C.E. 71

* * *

"This is quite the machine you have here, Ken," Cagalli commented; she sat in Preybird's rear seat, module closed overhead, examining the systems and database. "And you came up with it all by yourself?" 

"Not completely," Ken conceded, from the pilot's module (both were closed to facilitate use of the displays). "Several of the systems are based on those of the original six G-weapons -the Raptor's Death Blossoms, for example, inspired the DRAGOON system- but it's true I had a few contributions of my own. The artificial musculature, for instance, was something I designed to prevent a repeat of what happened to my GINN at the Bloody Valentine." He grimaced. "At the time, I wasn't expecting the same thing to happen to Raptor."

"Well," she observed, "I'd say Preybird would take Raptor apart -no pun intended. I've never seen a machine with this much firepower." Bringing up a gunnery program, she shook her head. "I just don't know how you can keep track of all this during a battle..."

"For one thing," he said dryly, "it's not as if I use every single system at once. I generally prefer the Gerbera Straight or the beam sabers; failing that, I primarily use the rifles and rail cannons, with the occasional use of the beam boomerangs. Or, if I want something very, very dead -or if my opponent is more capable than average- there's always the DRAGOON system."

Cagalli nodded. "And the satellite cannon?"

Ken rubbed his eyepatch. "The Nataraja is something I use sparingly; too much risk of friendly fire, and it stresses the systems too much. That weapon is primarily for when I'm facing entire fleets... and for GENESIS. Other than that, it tends to be a little... overpowering."

"Yeah," she agreed. "An antimatter weapon usually is."

A new window suddenly opened on Ken's display; within it was Dearka's face, and he looked grim. _"We just got a report from long-range recon aircraft, Falcon,"_ he said tightly. _"ZAFT has launched an attack on the Panama spaceport."_

They both tensed. "They're trying to destroy the mass driver?" Cagalli said sharply.

He nodded. _"Probably; Porta Panama itself is the only logical target. I think they're getting desperate, after Alaska, if they're trying a stunt like this."_

"Not desperate," Ken murmured. "At least, not entirely..." He looked up. "Dearka, do we still have a live feed from that recon bird?"

Dearka blinked. _"Yeah, I think so; why?"_

"Give me a datalink," the ace told him, the slight edge of command in his voice. "I want to see that data for myself, so pipe it through to Preybird."

_"You can handle that kind of datalink?"_

Ken smiled slightly. "I've commanded entire pitched battles before, Dearka, remember? In light of that, I've got command and control systems installed in Preybird. It can handle the flow; just get me that data."

Dearka nodded. _"Right. Just a minute."_ He disappeared, and Ken looked over his shoulder.

"Bring up the satellite link, partner," he requested. "And no," he added, seeing the look on her face, "I'm _not_ about to blow something up. It just so happens that the power satellites also have limited reconnaissance capability; thermal and optical only, but it'll be enough to show us what's going on."

Cagalli shrugged. "Okay, I'm on it." Bringing up the program that usually initiated laserlink for power transmission, she quickly found the feature he'd referred to, and activated it. "There it is; now what?"

"Now I see if any of the satellites has a clear view of Panama..." Ken trailed off, flipping between various views, and finally nodded in satisfaction. "Here we are," he said, just as the promised data from the recon plane appeared. "Take a look at this."

She frowned as visual data appeared on her own displays. "ZAFT doesn't seem to have much there," she murmured. "They _must_ be desperate... Wait a second, what's _that?"_

He raised an eyebrow, peering intently at the image. "That" was humanoid in shape, carrying a shield and a beam rifle... and it wasn't a ZAFT model. "I don't believe it," he whispered. "But I should've anticipated it..."

"The Earth Forces are building their own mass-produced mobile suits," Cagalli realized. "They must've developed a Natural-adapted OS of their own."

"Yeah." Ken frowned in thought. "If I had to guess, those are rushed-job mass-produced versions of the Strike. Versatile, reasonably simple... and, unlike the GINNs, CGUEs, and DINNs, armed with beam weapons."

She tilted her head, watching the new machines tear into the ZAFT attackers. "Will this complicate your plans any?"

"Not really," he said slowly. "Not in and of themselves, anyway; judging from the admittedly limited observational data, I'd say they're no match for even the old Strike, let alone the Freedom or the Preybird. Still... there's the chance that the Alliance has more powerful machines in development..." He trailed off, seeing something new. "Wait; those are..."

Cagalli frowned, watching as GINN walked up to some kind of device that had just been dropped from orbit, and begin punching in some kind of code on a panel on its side. "What _are_ those things?"

Ken didn't answer immediately; instead, he reactivated the radio. "Dearka, tell Command to get that recon plane out of there," he snapped. "Now!"

Dearka blinked, startled by the urgency in his friend's voice, but nodded. _"Roger that, Falcon."_ He winked out again.

Within moments, they were reduced to the data coming in from the satellite, and Cagalli looked at her partner in confusion. "What's going on?"

"I know _exactly_ what those devices are," Ken replied grimly. "And I should've figured they'd be used here. They're Gungnirs, an experimental weapon -another of my designs, as it happens- that produces an electromagnetic pulse, shorting out anything electronic in the area... except for the ZAFT forces, which are doubtless hardened against the effect."

She frowned. "But the Earth Forces machines should be EMP-hardened, too, shouldn't they?"

"Yes... but not against the Gungnir effect. Remember, until now the _only_ way we've ever been able to produce EMP is through high-altitude nuclear airbursts; and those have a more mild effect than a dedicated EMP system like Gungnir. The Alliance forces are about to be wiped out... and the mass driver with them." He shook his head. "This is bad..." _If they succeed in destroying the Alliance's last mass driver, the Earth Forces will have no option but to try to take another one. And with Kaohsiung and Victoria occupied by substantial ZAFT forces, that just leaves... Kaguya._

_Here._

On the screen showing the overhead satellite imagery, there was bright, electrical flash; and as the Alliance mobile suits began to fall, and the Porta Panama mass driver was engulfed, Ken turned off the display. "I think we've seen enough," he said heavily. "ZAFT has their revenge for Alaska; now the stakes have just gotten sky high... literally."

Cagalli nodded grimly. "What do you think will happen now?"

"I'm not sure... but I _am_ sure that if we're not ready in the next month -probably a lot less- we're going to have problems on our hands."

* * *

Out in the hangar, Mu stood in front of the Freedom, gazing up at the powerful machine. _These are the wave of the future,_ he thought. _Mobile armors are obsolete, older model mobile suits are no match, and even full-fledged battleships can't compete. This machine, and others like it, have just made me obsolete... I really _should _see about getting one of the Astrays myself..._

Another thought occurred to him then: an Astray would do fine in the meantime... but perhaps, when the _Archangel_'s contingent joined the main body of "True ZAFT", he could get Falcon to build something better... _Not a duplicate of the Preybird, though. Even if I could figure that thing out, I'm not sure how he'd react to the idea of having a _second _machine that powerful lying around, no matter the pilot..._ After all, it was now common knowledge that Freedom's capabilities had been deliberately delimited to preclude it becoming a serious threat to Preybird, had ZAFT managed to deploy it themselves. _Not that it seems to matter; I don't think Falcon realized just how good Kira really is..._

In any case, it was clear that the days of the mobile armor as a frontline weapon were over. Mobile suits had the advantage of mobility, armor, _and_ firepower; a Moebius or even a Moebius Zero was no match for this latest generation of mobile suits. Mu had to adapt or be left behind... and the fact that they were in the middle of a war, and were planning to get even closer to the center of the conflict, just added more meaning to it. And with the events that were going on at that very moment...

He heard footsteps, and turned to see Kira walking toward him. "You hear the news about Panama?" he asked the younger pilot.

Kira nodded soberly. "Yeah. According to Ken, it didn't go well for the Earth Forces, either."

Mu sighed. "You know, this just underscores how tough our task is. We've decided to go out and fight against the whole world... and it's not going to be easy. Not at all."

"I know. It's going to be difficult... but I don't see that we have a choice." Kira looked at him sidelong. "Mu, I'll admit right now that I don't agree with everything Ken proposes to do. The way he talks about destroying entire fleets, whittling down both sides in order to force a final, decisive battle... I don't like it, and I don't think it's the way we should be doing things. Too many people would be killed if we did that... and there's too much chance _both_ sides will use their most powerful weaponry, especially if the N-jammer cancellers are leaked to the Earth Forces." His fist clenched unconsciously. "Unfortunately... I don't see that we have another option right now. For now, we _do_ have to follow Ken's 'Shiva Option', however much we don't want to."

The Hawk looked at him sharply. "'For now'?" he repeated. "And what happens when it _isn't_ the only option? What will you do then?"

The Freedom's pilot shrugged. "That depends on what other options present themselves. But I can't let this keep on, even if I have to fight alone. The way the war is going now isn't the right way to end it, and I don't think Ken's path is, exactly, either... I guess I'll just have to let my own conscience dictate what I do from here."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you for months, Kira," Ken said quietly, riding Preybird's zip line down to the deck, Cagalli behind him. "I know you don't fully approve of my Shiva Option, and quite frankly, I didn't expect you to. I happen to believe that it's the _only_ realistic chance our small band has of accomplishing the goal... but I won't try to tell you that you have to agree. As always, in the end, it's you own decision, your own judgment to make."

Kira looked over at Cagalli. "And what do _you_ think?"

She walked over to him. "I don't quite know which of you is right," she said quietly. "After everything we've been through, I'm inclined to think Ken's probably on the right track... but you've got a point, too. I'm tired of all the killing; I just want this war to end..."

He touched her shoulder, with a small smile. "Me, too."

Ken cleared his throat. "I don't mean to interrupt," he said dryly, "but I _did_ have a reason to come out here. We just got a call from Chief Simmons; she wants us -that includes you, Mu- out at the Morgenroete facility. She apparently has something important to show us."

Mu cocked his head. "Maybe it has something to do with why the Duel and Buster haven't been around here lately; be nice to find out just what she's been up to... besides installing N-jammer cancellers and nuclear reactors."

* * *

Morgenroete Hangar

* * *

"I think you'll be interested in what I have to show you," Erica Simmons said, sounding oddly smug, as the group approached the door to the main hangar area (along the way, Murrue and Dearka had also joined them). "You'll remember that we took temporary custody of the Duel and the Buster the other day, in order to complete repairs and make a few modifications?" 

"Hard to forget," Mu said dryly. "What with the big empty spaces in _Archangel_'s hangar."

"Well, we've finished the mods... and now that you're back, I thought we should probably return _this_ to you." As she spoke, the doors slid apart... and the _Archangel_ contingent stared at that was revealed, startled speechless.

There, directly ahead of them, stood the GAT-X105 Strike. Once battered, burned, and sliced to pieces, the mobile suit that had served Kira and the _Archangel_ so well now appeared hale and whole again, unmarked by the numerous battles it had fought.

_I never thought I'd see it again,_ Kira thought, with a feeling akin to awe. _After what Athrun did to it, I thought it was gone for good..._

Simmons smiled at their reactions. "We picked it up during our search and rescue effort in the Marshall Islands," she explained. "And, since Lord Uzumi seemed to think you'd be back before too long, we figured we'd repair this and give it back when you returned. Toward that end -since we thought Kira here was dead- we equipped it with the new OS you designed the last time you were here."

Mu looked up at it, a strange gleam in his eyes. "You mean the operating system designed for Naturals?"

She nodded. "That's right. Now, I can see that Kira won't be flying it anymore -unless he wants to downgrade from the Freedom, which I doubt- so I guess you'll have to choose a new pilot."

Cagalli took in the Strike's newly-repaired visage. _"I'll_ fly it," she said firmly... and then looked at Kira, recalling that it _was_ his machine, after all. "Only if it's okay with you, of course," she added hastily.

Actually, Kira wouldn't have minded at all... but Mu La Flaga had other ideas. "I'm afraid you can't," he said quietly. "Because that's _my_ job."

She bristled indignantly, but another voice spoke up before she could voice it. "Can't think of a better choice," Sophia called, walking toward them. "Better than flying a Skygrasper, anyway. Right?"

Before Cagalli could explode, Ken leaned toward her. "Don't worry," he murmured, quietly enough that no one else heard. "I've got an idea; and besides, first I expect I'll need to have a... discussion with your father. I don't know how much he'll like the idea of you flying; but I'll manage."

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ken," she whispered back. _Any "idea" he has _must _be interesting... and if anybody can convince my father to let me fight, it's him._ Idly, she fingered the gold Order of the Nebula that hung from her neck. _Yeah, he can do it..._

"So," Dearka asked then, "what about my Buster? What have done with _it?"_

Simmons smiled. "Right over there, Mr. Elsman. I think you'll be interested to see the modifications we've made to it." Leaving the others at the Strike, she led Ken and Dearka over to another part of the hangar... where a sight that was, in anything, _more_ surprising than the Strike awaited them. "So, what do you think?"

It took them both a moment to think of anything to say. The Buster, once obviously incapable of atmospheric flight, now had some kind of six-winged backpack, with a pair of beam sabers and four peculiar modules attached to the boosters. It looked almost like an Aile Striker pack, but...

Ken's gaze sharpened. "I know that equipment."

Erica smiled broadly. "That's right, Commander. We didn't just salvage the Strike; we also retrieved what was left of your Raptor. The main body was a total loss -unsurprising, given your self-destruct sequence- but the backpack was largely intact, missing only the beam cannons. So, when you guys got back, we thought we'd give the Buster atmospheric flight capability, and some close-combat weapons."

Dearka nodded to himself, a slow smile growing. "I think I like it," he said at last. "The one thing I never liked about the Buster was its lack of mobility. But now..." Then he frowned slightly. "But why keep the Death Blossoms? Only a pilot like Falcon can even use them at all."

She chuckled. "Normally, yes, that's true. In this case, however, we've added an additional program to Buster's OS, which allows for a set of preprogrammed targeting maneuvers to be input into the Death Blossoms units. It's not nearly as effective as it would be with a pilot like Commander DiFalco or the Hawk of Endymion controlling it directly, and it's a lot more likely to be destroyed by enemy fire, but it _does_ give you some all-range capability. And, since -like the Strike and the Duel- we've added an NJC and nuclear reactor, you won't have to worry about the power drain." She reached into a pocket, and withdrew a data disc. "This has some blueprints you might find interesting," she said, handing it to Ken. "They're for a large, physical sword; we'd have built it ourselves, but we judged that standard blades are obsolete, so this design calls for the same material a Gerbera Straight is made from. Since we don't have Lowe Guele on hand at the moment, I thought I'd pass it on to you, since your friend Delaney is capable of forging with that metal."

Ken plugged the disc into his pocket computer, and nodded thoughtfully. "Looks like a zweihander," he remarked. "Huge, with a long handle and a wide, single-edged blade, curved close to the tip..." He looked at his old friend. "So, Dearka? What do you think?"

Dearka considered it. "Might be useful," he decided. "I don't have quite your skill with a saber, so I can't use that to deflect beams; and since Buster doesn't have a shield, this would at least give me _some_ defensive capability." He snorted. "Probably doesn't take much effort to get something that big into a defensive position." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, if the Buster's here, then where's..."

Before he could finish, Yzak's irate voice echoed through the hangar. "Okay, what did you guys do with the Duel? If you lost it, I'll..."

The two ex-ZAFT pilots exchanged looks. "Same old Yzak," Dearka said with a sigh.

"Fortunately," Ken agreed. "I was starting to get a little worried."

* * *

Author's note: The Panama mass driver has been destroyed, leaving the Earth Forces unable to send large amounts of equipment or personnel into space. Soon, they may do something drastic to rectify that... 

Meanwhile, _Archangel_'s crew has a chance to relax... and retrieves their old machines, with upgraded capabilities...

Yes, yes, I know; late update. Well, it was kind of a slow chapter. I'm not actually sure how you'll like it, either; it _was_ mostly filler, after all. Oh, well. Guess I'll just have to wait and see... Anyway, till next time. -Solid Shark


	31. Chapter 31: Winds of War

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

PLANTs, Martius Three, True ZAFT Base, May 27th, C.E. 71

* * *

"All right, people," Tom Delaney announced, dropping a file on the conference table, "it took us three weeks, but we finally got all the details about what happened at Alaska." 

Siegel Clyne -who had been admitted to the select group who knew of True ZAFT's plans (and been considerably surprised to learn that the head of his own bodyguard had been conspiring against ZAFT) following the Freedom Theft Incident- raised an eyebrow. "Is this information from a ZAFT source?"

The gray-haired engineer shook his head. "Nope; if it was, I wouldn't trust it. No, this is from the Boss. The _Archangel,_ along with the _Hades,_ reached Orb twelve days ago, and he's finally managed to get a message to us; I gather it took so long because he wanted to be sure he got all the relevant data into the message."

Sparky Cooper folded his arms. "You gonna get to the point sometime, Tom, or will I have to beat it out of you?"

"No need to get rough," Tom said defensively. "Anyway, we've now got a complete after-action report; and it's at least as bad as I heard from our ZAFT moles. So," he added, "do you want to hear the good news first, or the bad news?"

Nicol Amalfi leaned back in his chair. "You mean there's good news? Then let's hear it."

"You got it." He flipped open the file. "First of all, as I said, the _Archangel_ made it to Orb, after rendezvousing with the _Hades;_ along the way, they were also joined by Shiho... and, at Alaska itself, by Kira and the Freedom."

Clyne nodded. "So he made it? I'm glad to hear it; Lacus seems to think of him as a brother now."

Tom smiled. "Well, it's a good thing she ain't 'interested' in him, if you know what I mean; 'cause according to the Boss -and an attached addendum from Leanne- there's not much doubt that he and the Chief Representative's daughter are an item these days... even if they still won't admit it." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, it seems Preybird performed even beyond our hopes; at any rate, nothing at Alaska stood a chance against it. Between it and the Freedom, _Archangel_ escaped without much trouble... though it seems Victor is still on the loose."

Sparky scowled. "That man is becoming a real nuisance; I wish I didn't agree with the Boss's reasoning for keeping him alive. If we don't get him soon, he may become a real thorn in our side."

Clyne frowned. "I was quite disgusted to hear that that madman had been resurrected," he murmured. "Especially since Patrick made it quite clear that the only _reason_ Huckebein the Raven was revived was to hunt down Commander DiFalco."

"Well," Tom informed him, "unless he gets a much better suit, he doesn't have a chance. He was flying a nuclear-powered GuAIZ Experimental Firearms Type at Alaska, and the Boss -and Preybird- _still_ took him apart."

"No doubt you're glad your pet project worked out so well," Sparky said dryly.

The engineer glared at him. "Hey, it was the _Commander's_ idea, okay? Sure, I'm proud that my construction was spot-on, but don't try to accuse me of gloating over 'my' design, because it _ain't_ 'my' design."

"Are you people ever going to get to the point?" Clyne interjected pointedly.

Tom blinked, looking sheepish. "Oh, sorry. Anyway, the _Archangel_ escaped from Alaska, joined up with _Hades_ and Shiho, and made their way to Orb; now we have to hold _our_ end up, by getting those two ships ready. Oh, and Nicol," he added, "it seems the Boss hacked a new mobile suit design out of the Morgenroete database -though from the tone of his remarks, I think Chief Simmons knew all about it- that he thinks you might like. Near as I can tell, it started out as the MBF-P01 Gold Frame Astray, one of the three prototypes Morgenroete was building from stolen data. Now, it's been extensively modified, with the right arm of your old Blitz added, along with the attached Trikeros, and Phase-shift and Mirage Colloid capabilities; not to mention a new head, wing-like claws designed to drain an enemy mobile suit's energy, and a couple of spears that seem to be coated with Phase-shift armor, in order to penetrate even that defense."

Nicol nodded appreciatively at the description. "Do we have the capability to construct it?"

"No sweat," the engineer assured him. "We've got all the data on it, as well as suggestions from the Boss on how to convert it to nuclear power."

"Great." The Blitz's former pilot smiled... and then frowned. "You said there was good news and bad news; so what's the bad news?"

Tom sighed. "The bad news? It's pretty clear that Spit Break was betrayed to the Earth Forces, since even _our_ people didn't know Alaska was the true target until the last minute... and the Alliance must've known literally months in advance. You don't build a Cyclops system of that size on a moment's notice." He scowled. "Apparently, the Boss and the other _Archangel_ bigwigs -apparently including Dearka and Yzak now, though I'm not sure what got Yzak to join them- have been talking it over... and they got to thinking just how many people knew the full Spit Break plan."

Sparky frowned. "As of the Boss's desertion, just himself, us, Patrick, and..." His head jerked up. "It can't be."

Tom nodded unhappily. "It's the only thing that makes sense, Sparky... especially when you factor in the fact that Le Creuset _knew_ about the Cyclops, after infiltrating JOSHUA... and didn't tell anyone about it."

Clyne closed his eyes. "I have the feeling," he said, almost inaudibly, "that this is _not_ good news."

"It isn't," Sparky said heavily. "Especially since I have a distinct feeling that Tom has even _more_ bad news for us."

Tom nodded once again. "I'm afraid so, Sparky. First of all, one of our remaining ZAFT moles -I think it's _him,_ but it was, as usual, delivered through a cutout- is pretty sure that Le Creuset has the plans for the Neutron-jammer canceller. And second... Well, you know that with the loss of Panama, the Alliance no longer has a mass driver under their control, which means they can't send large amounts of cargo into orbit right now. There are several ways they might try to remedy this; such as an attempt to retake Kaohsiung or Victoria, or even assault Carpentaria. Unfortunately, what the Boss thinks... is that the Alliance will choose to invade Orb, instead, and seize the Kaguya facilities."

Clyne clenched a fist. "This is what the madness of Patrick and the leaders of the Earth Alliance has led to," he whispered. "Where does it end?"

"I don't know," the engineer said frankly. "But I do know this: the Alliance will never get Kaguya."

Nicol sat up straight. "What do you mean, Tom?"

"I mean," Tom said quietly, "that the Boss and Lord Uzumi have been discussing the matter... and the Chief Representative has decided that, in the event that an Earth Forces victory becomes probable, he will destroy the Morgenroete facilities, and the Kaguya spaceport, before he lets those bastards have them."

* * *

Atlantic Federation, Washington, North America, Office, May 30th, C.E. 71

* * *

Muruta Azrael sat at his desk, smiling to himself as he went over the file that lay before him. _Those idiots on the Council always were gutless bastards,_ he mused. _It was so easy to convince them to see my way as the only way; now all we have to do is wait for Orb's response._

He grinned broadly. The Earth Alliance leadership had agreed without much fuss that Orb would be asked to abandon its ridiculous neutrality and join the Alliance... and if they refused, they'd be considered supporters of ZAFT. Azrael, of course, knew full well that they weren't; but neutrality was effectively the same as saying that they _approved_ of the space monsters.

And besides... they had the only mass driver not controlled by ZAFT. And that was something the Alliance needed very badly.

Azrael rather hoped that Orb _would_ refuse; it would give him the chance to put the Coordinator-lovers in their place... and test the capabilities of his new machines and their "pilots". Fortunately, he knew Uzumi Nara Athha's reputation. The man was so stubborn... and almost certain to reject any ultimatum. _Which will be just perfect,_ he gloated to himself. _And maybe then, I won't need to use that masked man as a tool anymore; maybe then I can just kill him, as he deserves..._

There was a knock on his office's door. "Excuse me, Director," his secretary said politely. "But there's a message from your... priority source; one of your people retrieved it from a dead drop this morning."

He raised an eyebrow; there was only one person _that_ could be. "Show me," he said, holding out a hand. "And then shut the door behind you; this is sensitive information."

"Yes, Director." The secretary handed over the data disc and withdrew, leaving the Director of the Defense Industries Association... and the leader of Blue Cosmos... to insert the disc into his desk terminal.

"What do we have here?" he murmured to himself. The data appeared to be specifications for some kind of new mobile suit... and it was powered by...

His breath caught in his throat. _Nuclear power,_ Azrael thought in wonder, an elated thrill going through him. _They've found a way around the Neutron jammers... and now I have the data... Yes! This is _perfect! _Our nuclear arsenal... is available to us again..._

He spun toward his phone. "Get me Captain Sutherland," he ordered. "The situation has just changed; and we have our trump card back."

* * *

Onogoro Island Base, Gym, June 6th, C.E. 71

* * *

Some people liked to celebrate their birthdays in a sedentary manner; others, by doing insane things like skydiving at eighty years old. 

One young man, however, preferred to commemorate his eighteenth birthday in a fashion those who didn't know him well would've thought very peculiar indeed. Most people, after all, preferred not to risk being _beheaded_ when celebrating such a milestone.

Ken DiFalco, dressed in padded, crimson armor, matching scabbard thrust through his belt, naked katana in hand, was not most people.

His blade clashed with that of the equally-padded, brown-haired young woman who stood before him, and then was forced down by the opposing weapon. He slid his sword down hers, disengaging from the lock, and spun, bringing his weapon up in a high guard.

Shiho Hahnenfuss made the next move, a slash toward Ken's stomach; with a clash of metal on metal, though, she hastily raised it to deflect the blurring blade aimed at her throat... only to have Ken's sword suddenly disengage again, drop, and whip forward into her chest.

She exhaled in a whoosh, and a voice laconically said, "Point."

The two combatants -both of whom would've been killed many times over during the long bout, where it not for their armor- stepped back, bowing to each other... somewhat wearily. "You've... been practicing, Boss..." Shiho wheezed. "Thought I... had you there..."

Ken pulled off his helmet, breathing hard himself. "You nearly did," he admitted. "Either I'm slowing down, or _you've_ been practicing, Housenka."

"A little of both, I suspect," Leanne Eldridge, who had acted as referee, said sardonically. "Though more the latter than the former; if you _have_ been slowing down, then you've sped up since the last time I saw you do that." She cocked an eyebrow. "So, you two finished trying to kill each other, or are you going to keep going until one of you collapses."

"No," the ace told her, falling back on the training mat, "I think we're done for now."

Shiho shook her head as she, too, collapsed. "In all the time I've known you, Boss," she said tiredly, "I think that's the first time I've managed to tire you out."

"It wasn't you," he said deflatingly. "I had a hand-to-hand bout with Cagalli this morning; thought it was just going to be a warm-up, but she gave me a run for my money. Won three falls out of six, in fact." He panted for several moments, then looked up at Leanne. "Speaking of knowing people," he began, "just how _do_ you know Mu? You acted like old friends or something."

"Or something," Mu La Flaga agreed, walking in on them. "In fact, we've known each other quite awhile; although it'd been, what... ten years?"

"Something like that," Leanne agreed. "Since around the time tension Earth and the PLANTs started escalating, and we got a little more cautious."

"Which is all very interesting," Ken informed her, "but it still doesn't answer my question. How _do_ you know each other?"

Mu grinned. "Didn't you know? Leanne here is a cousin of mine, on my father's side."

Ken and Shiho looked at each other, and then spoke simultaneously. _"What?"_

Leanne laughed. "Yeah, that's right; I realize I didn't mention it before, but I deemed it unwise, in case ears less sympathetic to Naturals overheard."

The ace shook his head. "And that would make Nicol...?"

"A cousin," the Hawk confirmed. "Not by blood, though; my -our- dad's sister married Yuri Amalfi's wife's brother, so it's a fairly distant connection. Of course," he added thoughtfully, "that does make _you_ blood-related to Leanne, doesn't it? Hadn't thought of that before..."

Shiho shook her head. "Remind me never to get into a genealogical discussion with any of you; it would take years... and I've already used up a lot of my life today, just trying not to get killed by the Boss..."

"Years?" Mu cocked his head... and then grinned. "Yeah. Potentially. Which reminds me," he went on, looking at Ken, "I understand today's pretty important for you. Happy Birthday, kid."

Ken rolled his eye. "You honestly think it matters much to me, Mu? I've been acting as an adult for a couple of years now; fought my first battle when I was sixteen, as a matter of fact. For that matter, the first time I _killed_ was when I was fourteen... so don't expect me to think of today as being any kind of important milestone."

"Don't worry," Murrue Ramius said dryly, walking in. "We don't."

He looked up. "Hello, Murrue," the ace greeted, dragging himself to his feet. "What brings you here?" He began stripping off the armor, grateful to be rid of what had become an almost stifling weight during the sparring match.

"I just thought I'd drop by," she replied, and raised an eyebrow. "You... don't seem to have one of your power packs connected. Are you _trying_ to have a heart attack?"

Ken smiled. "As a matter of fact, I didn't need one. Last week, you see, Erica made a few modifications to my chestplate... such as the addition of a rechargeable battery, good for a couple of hours on its own. In an actual combat situation, I'd still prefer to be properly hooked up... but this gives me some breathing space, in case something goes wrong with the connection."

"Like Alaska," Murrue said quietly.

He looked away. "Alaska... scared me," he admitted. "I came so close to losing everything I've fought for... and if I was scared, Erica was as close to terrified as she ever gets by the implications, especially after she learned about GENESIS. So, she decided to take some precautions, and this is the result."

"We're all glad of it," she assured him. "I thought we'd lost you, back there... and Dearka tells me that if he'd been another minute late, we _would_ have lost you."

Cagalli Yula Athha, stepping into the room at that moment with Kira Yamato at her side, paused, and glanced between the ace and the _Archangel_'s captain. _Huh... maybe there _is _some truth_ _to the rumors..._ "Ken's not that easy to get rid of," she said aloud. "He's too mean to die."

"Too arrogant, you mean," Kira said dryly, touching her shoulder. "Right?"

"I suppose there's a certain amount of truth to that," Ken conceded. "But I would actually say it's more that I'm too _stubborn_ to die; as certain other people-" he shot a glance at Leanne "-might agree."

Mu chuckled. "You sure you're not just scared to die?"

The ace looked at him soberly. "Mu," he said quietly, tone very serious, "it takes more courage to live than to die. It would be far easier for me to simply let myself go... but I can't do that. It's not fear, it's not arrogance; it's responsibility. It's my job to finish what I started, and destroy my abominable creation... because I'm the only one who can."

Murrue sighed. "When will you understand that you can't do everything by yourself? You may be the only one who can stop GENESIS itself, but that doesn't mean we can't help you." Her gaze sharpened. "And you'd better not be thinking of sacrificing yourself, either. You're too important to us, Ken, for you to just throw your life away."

Ken smiled slightly. "Never said anything about sacrificing myself, Murrue. At least, not if I have any other option. Besides, there'll probably be a lot of work to do after the fighting's finished, too; by the end of it, there will very likely be a new government in power in the PLANTs -even if he isn't killed in the fighting, there's no way Patrick's hold on the Chairmanship will survive the use of GENESIS, whatever _he_ thinks- and ZAFT itself will need to be restored." He looked directly at Kira. "I know you don't exactly approve of the Shiva Option, amigo," he said quietly, "but no matter what happens, ZAFT _will_ be losing a great deal of its fighting strength in this war, if only from Earth Alliance attacks."

"It already has," Mu pointed out somberly. "After Alaska, and the casualties they took at Panama, before those Gungnirs were activated... Yeah, I guess ZAFT just might need you, at that."

"Though, of course," the ace murmured, "I doubt they'll ever completely trust me again. However justified I may have been, I _did_ commit treason against ZAFT; even those who believe I did the right thing won't be human if they don't harbor _some_ suspicion." He rubbed his eyepatch thoughtfully. "But... there's something I've come to realize, these past months."

"What's that?" Murrue asked; she had a feeling that her young friend was in his "Socratic mode", as Mu had taken to describing the Grimaldi Falcon's bursts of philosophical enthusiasm.

Ken absently stroked the hilt of his sword. "Honor is an important thing," he began quietly. "So is loyalty. But you must not allow yourself to be blinded by it; you must not allow yourself to be dragged down by your own code of honor, or by loyalty to your country. When that loyalty, and the honor that goes with it, has been perverted by a nation no longer worthy of it, the world needs someone willing to commit treason, to betray that for which he has stood all his life. Sometimes the right thing to do isn't the right thing to do... and to do what is right, you must do what others may see as wrong. Even if you go down in history as a traitor, _you_ will know the truth... you'll know that you did something that had to be done, even if it meant treason." He closed his eye. "There must always be someone who can, and will, commit treason... for there will always be something which must be betrayed, if the right thing to do is to be done."

There was a short silence after that; some weren't sure exactly what he was saying, and others wondered if he actually meant what he said... or was simply rambling.

Mu finally broke the silence, scratching his head. "Is this guy drunk?"

The ace rolled his eye. "A simpler way to put it, perhaps," he said dryly, "would be that the world needs people who can make the really hard choices... even if those choices cost them the very thing they're fighting to protect." His expression turned serious again. "Sometimes, a man must give up that for which he fights, in order to save it for others."

Murrue nodded soberly. "So what will you do, when the war is over?"

"I have no idea," Ken said frankly. "I haven't thought that far ahead... primarily because I'm more worried about surviving right now, at least long enough to complete my mission."

Cagalli frowned. "Speaking of your 'mission', partner," she began, "I'm actually kind of surprised you haven't insisted on getting moving by now. You said your forces are mostly in space; so why wait around here, in Orb? I'd think you'd want to strike now, before the Earth Forces can recapture Victoria or Kaohsiung..."

He slowly shook his head. "If it were that simple, I probably _would_ be advocating immediate movement," he said quietly. "Unfortunately, it's my belief that neither Victoria nor Kaohsiung is the Earth Forces' next target. Both of them are held by sizable ZAFT forces, the largest concentrations left on Earth outside of Carpentaria and Gibraltar; even with most of ZAFT's mobile forces destroyed, and the Alliance's new mass-produced mobile suits, I don't think they'd want to tangle with those base if they could possibly avoid it... and it just so happens that they can." He met her gaze. "Cagalli... it's my belief that the Alliance will instead choose to attack right here."

She inhaled sharply. "You think they'd actually do that?"

"It's not as farfetched as you might think," Shiho interjected grimly. "Remember, it was just five days ago that the Equatorial Union and the Kingdom of Scandinavia were forced to renounce their neutrality and join the Alliance; and they urged Orb to do the same. I think the Boss is right: it won't be long before the Atlantic Federation begins issuing demands to that effect."

"And when they do," Leanne murmured, "Lord Uzumi will reject them... which is probably just what the Alliance wants..."

Ken nodded. "Exactly. And _that_ is why the _Archangel_ is still here; we need to protect Orb as best we can, when the time arrives... and we need to buy as much time as we can for the _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_ to be completed, along with a couple of new mobile suits they're constructing up there."

"And the new base," Shiho interjected.

Even Ken looked at her in puzzlement, following that remark. "Base?" he said blankly.

She cleared her throat. "Sorry about that, Boss; I was supposed to mention that when I first arrived after Alaska, but with everything that was going on, it kind of slipped my mind... Anyway," she said hastily, "Sparky said that they're exploring the idea of using the Mendel colony as a base, at least until we find something better. If nothing else, it would make a good rendezvous point, when the _Archangel_ launches again for space."

Mu frowned. "But the Mendel colony was evaced back in Sixty-Eight; some kind of biohazard, if I remember right. Is it even safe to enter that place anymore?"

Leanne tapped her chin. "I ran a preliminary survey I conducted while I was deploying the Nataraja powersats," she began, "and from what I saw, there's no trace left of contaminants; if I remember right, they subjected the entire colony to a barrage of X-rays years ago, theoretically destroying any nasty bioweapons left around."

Cagalli looked at her sharply. "Did you say bioweapons?"

The ex-ZAFT pilot shrugged. "Cagalli, it's no secret -at least in ZAFT- that Blue Cosmos was almost certainly behind the Mendel Incident; those lunatics may _talk_ about a 'blue and pure world', but they're not above using engineered bugs or radioactive nasties. They proved _that_ when they nuked Junius Seven."

"You have a point," the princess admitted unhappily.

There was a long silence, ripe for brooding, until Mu decided to do something about it. "Hey, is this any kind of talk for a birthday? C'mon, cheer up, have a party or something."

Ken fixed him with a deadly, one-eyed glare. "I'll have you know, Mu, that I hate parties," he said icily. "And if you throw a _surprise_ party, my blade will taste your flesh." He smiled coldly. "And no, I'm not bluffing."

* * *

PLANTs, Martius Three, True ZAFT Base, June 13th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Well, that tears it," Tom Delaney said grimly, storming into the conference room, a thunderous expression on his face that took even Sparky aback. "This is some of the worst news we've gotten in the last several months, even if it's hardly unexpected." 

"What is it?" Siegel Clyne questioned. "A message form Commander DiFalco?"

The engineer shook his head. "No, this time we didn't need the Boss's intelligence; this was broadcast in the clear, and one of our power/recon satellites caught it." he took a deep, calming breath. "As of 0800 this morning, the Atlantic Federation's Fourth Naval Fleet took up station just outside Orb's waters, and transmitted several demands to the Orb government."

Sparky felt his gut tighten. "What sort of demands, Tom?"

"That Orb dismiss Representative Athha, dissolve its government, and join the Earth Alliance," Tom said flatly. "If Orb refuses, they will be judged a supporter of ZAFT, and the Fourth Fleet will attack; Orb has forty-eight hours to comply, or else."

Nicol cursed. "This isn't good timing, is it?"

"No," Clyne agreed. "We're not ready to intervene... and even if we were, I'm not sure if we really could."

Sparky shook his head. "No, we couldn't. Even if _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_ were complete, I doubt the Boss would approve our launching a strike against the Alliance at this point. Though," he added, "it may not be as bad as we think; the Boss _does_ have Preybird, the Freedom, and _Archangel_ for backup, among other things."

Tom winced. "No, Sparky, it's _not_ as bad as we think... it's worse."

Clyne looked at him sharply. "Why do I have the feeling that there's even more bad news in the offing, Tom?"

"Probably because there is." The engineer's expression turned thunderous again. "One of our satellites -the same one, actually- confirmed the underground detonation, within Atlantic Federation territory, of a nuclear fusion bomb."

Silence reigned.

* * *

Onogoro Island, Conference Room

* * *

"So it's official," Ken said, almost to himself, with a sigh. "Can't say I'm surprised, but I hoped we'd have more time." 

"There's not a great deal more we could do to prepare in any case, Commander," Uzumi Nara Athha pointed out quietly. "What forces we have are already assembled, and even if your own people were ready, you know as well as I their presence in space is too vital to bring them down for this."

Murrue titled her head. "So, you're going to refuse to comply with the Alliance's demands, then?"

He nodded. "Yes. We have little choice, Captain; the actions the Earth Forces would take, backed by our technology, simply do not bear thinking on... and I do not know how long we'd last under occupation, either. For certain, our own population of Coordinators would not fare well... not with Muruta Azrael exerting so much influence over the Alliance."

Ken closed his eye. "You realize how unlikely it is that Orb will win this fight, don't you?"

Uzumi raised an eyebrow. "You knew that long before you decided to throw your lot in with us, Commander; naturally, we did as well. But, as you have demonstrated yourself, more than once, sometimes principles are more important than winning. And no matter what happens, they will not achieve their objective. They will not have Kaguya." His gaze sharpened. "But if that happens, you and your crew must retreat to space; your mission is too important to abandon now, no matter what it costs Orb."

Murrue nodded. "Understood, sir. If you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to discuss with my crew; now that we know war is coming, the least I can do is give them a choice as to whether or not they want to remain on the frontlines." She sighed. "I'm no longer their captain... merely a fellow traveler."

Ken looked at her. "I've heard it said," he began, "that the truest definition of 'friend' is a companion traveling on the same road." He fixed her with a piercing gaze. "You may no longer hold rank in an official military, Murrue... but to the crew of the _Archangel,_ you'll always be our captain."

"Thank you, Ken," she said, throat suddenly tight. "But I still must give them that choice."

"Of course; but I doubt many will choose to leave the ship. We've come this far together... we'll see it through to the end, no matter what that end is."

As Murrue withdrew, Uzumi gazed curiously at the young ace. _When he speaks of the _Archangel_'s crew,_ he thought to himself, _he always includes himself... despite the fact that his responsibilities began far from here, and that he would be continuing on this path even without assistance. A most unique individual..._

He cleared his throat. "Since you haven't already left, Commander, I take it there's something else you'd like to speak to me about?"

Ken nodded. "Yes, My Lord." _Though I'm not at all sure how you'll take it._ "It seems," he began, "that, in the process of rebuilding the Strike, Morgenroete found itself with enough replacement parts on hand to build another whole mobile suit. It seems to me that such a machine would prove helpful, when the fighting begins; particularly with the Integrated Weapons-system Striker Pack that's become available."

Uzumi nodded. "Yes, I expect it would. I take it you have a pilot in mind for this machine?"

"I do." The ace met his gaze levelly. "Specifically, Cagalli Yula Athha."

Orb's Chief Representative shook his head. "Out of the question," he said immediately. "Cagalli is not herself a soldier-"

"She did a pretty good imitation of one in Africa," Ken shot back, "and she's an excellent mobile armor pilot and mobile suit gunner. I also happen to know that she's been running simulations for the past month, so she at least has a better idea of what she's doing than Tolle Koenig did."

"Simulations are not the same as battle experience," Uzumi pointed out frostily.

"No, they're not," the ace agreed. "But everybody has a first battle; nobody starts out with hundreds of combat hours under their belt. The only way to _get_ experience is through actual combat, whether you like it or not."

Uzumi's eyes narrowed. "There is also the matter of her being the heir of Orb," he reminded the pilot. "She has responsibilities-"

"If we don't have every machine, and every decent pilot we've got up and flying," Ken said forcefully, "there won't be an Orb left to be the heir of! As it is, our chances are less than even; we cannot afford to keep a pilot with her natural ability grounded."

Uzumi did not like this idea in the slightest. Cagalli was his only daughter, with her mother long dead; and the likely alternative as Chief Representative, should they _both_ perish, would be one of the Sahaku twins. "Commander, I do not believe this idea is wise-"

"Blast it, My Lord," the ace exploded, temper fraying its tight leash, "you recruited a master tactician; _listen_ to him, why don't you?" His fist clenched. "Ask yourself this: in the short run -which is the only time frame we can afford to think about right now- which is more important? An heir who currently has nothing to do? Or an exceptional pilot whose presence will have a measurable effect on the outcome of the coming battles?"

The politician closed his eyes. _The man has no right bringing logic into the matter,_ he thought, almost in amusement. _I do not want her at risk... but the Commander has a point. And if she's out there, she has a greater chance of surviving the Alliance's retaliation for the coming destruction of Kaguya... though it would be best not to mention that fact to him._ He had, in fact, done his utmost to keep the young commander from learning that the Alliance had somehow regained nuclear capability; he didn't know what the revelation might do to Ken's fragile mind...

"All right, Commander," Uzumi said at last, with manifest unwillingness. "You've made your point... though I would submit you had best tell her yourself. Coming from me, it might seem..." He trailed off, uncertain of how to put it.

Ken nodded in understanding. "I know, My Lord; I had parents once, too." The words sent hardly a pang through him now; though he unconsciously fingered the hilt of his sword, whose name had come, in a way, from his troubled past. "Well," he said, suddenly brisk, "Murrue isn't the only one with business to attend to. If you'll excuse me, I need to see to the _Hades;_ if everything _does_ go as wrong as we suspect, she'll have to be scuttled before the Alliance can get hold of her."

* * *

Marshal Islands, Near Reverend Malchio's Orphanage

* * *

Athrun Zala, pilot of ZGMF-X09A Justice, brought his machine in for a landing on the island's beach, and descended to the ground. He wasn't sure exactly why he'd come to this place, where he and Kira had last fought, but... it seemed like something he needed to do. 

_There's something here... something that will help me make that final decision, whether to fight Kira... or join him._ _No, not fight,_ he corrected himself. _Whether to _talk, _or join completely in this crazy scheme. _He swallowed. _I have to decide... if I can commit treason._

Stepping slowly away from the Justice, Athrun could see that little about the island had changed since Orb recovered him. The Strike was gone, as were the remnants of the Raptor, but the surviving pieces of the Aegis yet remained. The head was partially sunken, bits of scrap littered the beach, and one hand, almost completely intact, lay spread on the ground not far away.

_It's almost as if time has stopped for this place,_ he mused. _The place where Kira and I tried to kill each other, the place where I killed Kira's friend... the place where we lost Dearka..._

Exactly what had happened to Dearka Elsman was uncertain. His Buster had been retrieved by the _Archangel,_ but the status of the pilot himself was unknown. Under other circumstances, given Dearka's friendship with the man who'd shot him down, Athrun would've been certain that his comrade was still alive; that the Grimaldi Falcon had spared him, for old times' sake. But that day... everyone had been out for blood, and DiFalco and Dearka had been no exceptions. Raptor might've been destroyed in the process, but the Grimaldi Falcon was tenacious enough to have continued the battle on foot... with his well-known sword skills.

_If he _is _alive,_ Athrun thought to himself, _then he's a prisoner. Not even for the sake of friendship would DiFalco let him loose to interfere with his "mission"..._

It was about then that he noticed he was being watched, by several young children; they hid, with some success, behind the Aegis' severed hand, and observed him warily. Eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and anxiousness, they seemed to be waiting for something... or someone.

The "someone" in question soon appeared: a pale-faced man with a walking stick, whose eyes were closed; Athrun surmised that the man was blind. "What is it?" he asked the children; then he seemed to somehow notice Athrun. "Hello there," he greeted.

Acting on an obscure impulse, Athrun stood at attention, and bowed. "My name is Athrun Zala," he said, introducing himself. "I... I came here looking for a friend," he went on, understanding now why he'd come. "This was where I last saw him, and I thought I might pick up the trail here."

The blind man nodded. "Welcome," he said. "I am Reverend Malchio; I have an orphanage on this island. If you are Athrun Zala, then you must be seeking Kira Yamato... and you were the ones who fought in the sky here, several weeks ago."

"Yes," Athrun acknowledged. "So, is Kira really...?"

Malchio smiled. "Yes," he replied. "Your friend was in bad shape when an acquaintance of mine brought him here, after saving his life, but the wounds weren't fatal. As you probably know by now, I took him to Kaguya, and from there to the Clyne Residence."

"Yes, I gathered that." Justice's pilot looked about uncertainly. "Do you... know where I might find him now?"

"I have some idea of it, yes," the Reverend answered. "Come; there is news you may find interesting... and very relevant to your quest."

* * *

Marshall Islands, Reverend Malchio's Orphanage

* * *

Athrun watched the news report expressionlessly... but inwardly, he had become very, very tense. _The idea that Orb would be supporting ZAFT, and was even involved in the Alaska attack... that's preposterous! Don't these idiots remember that it's only because of Orb that they were able to build mobile suits in the first place?_

"It's inevitable now," Malchio said sadly. "Orb is going to fight the Earth Forces; Representative Athha would never give in to such demands... and even if he did, I somehow doubt the Atlantic Federation is actually very interested in negotiation." He shook his head. "And the truly unfortunate thing is that, in a sense, Orb _is_ supporting ZAFT... or at least one faction of them."

Athrun looked at him through narrowed eyes. "So Commander DiFalco's group _has_ joined forces with Orb?"

Malchio nodded. "They have. The _Archangel_ has also officially joined DiFalco's organization... and between them and Orb, the Alliance is doubtless in for a fight. I fear the consequences, however; the rumors of what the Earth Forces have managed to do..."

The pilot inhaled sharply. "What rumors?"

The reverend titled his head. "According to the Junk Guild, there are some indications that the Alliance may have regained nuclear capability."

Athrun felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "What...? How?"

"That I don't know. I suspect Commander DiFalco's people in space _do,_ but if so, they haven't passed that information along to the Junk Guild." Malchio shrugged. "Reasonable of them, under the circumstances."

The analysis of the tactical situation that Athrun had heretofore held was shattered in an instant by this new information. Previously, he had believed Orb just short of impregnable, especially if the _Archangel_ had joined them; with the so-called "legged ship", the Freedom, and the Preybird on their side, Orb would've been able to withstand almost anything. Preybird alone would be capable of wiping out many times its number... but now...

_If the Earth Forces have nuclear weapons, this isn't just Orb's problem anymore,_ he thought, remembering the Bloody Valentine. _Now it's _everyone's _problem... but I doubt that ZAFT would be willing to intervene. And even if they were, Orb wouldn't accept that aid; not with DiFalco and his people involved._

_There must be _something _I can do..._

Athrun's head came up, a hard light in his eyes. "I guess I don't have a choice anymore," he said quietly. "It's come down to a choice between my country and my friend... and it's because of my country's insanity that the Earth Alliance has regained nuclear capability." He looked at Malchio. "Excuse me, sir... but I have to go."

The blind man nodded. "I understand, Athrun Zala. Do what you must; follow your own conscience."

Without another word, Athrun Zala, pilot of ZGMF-X09A Justice, soldier of the PLANTs, strode from the orphanage, hurrying to his machine.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

The ship's hangar was even more crowded than usual on this particular afternoon. In addition to the six mobile suits -Freedom, Strike, Buster, Preybird, Duel (now with a pair of folding wings attached to its assault shroud), and a nuclear-powered Astray- literally the entire crew had been gathered together. 

Before the assembled ranks stood Murrue, Mu, Natarle, Ledonir Kisaka, Cagalli, and Ken; an assembly that underscored to the crew the significance of this meeting.

"By now, you're all familiar with the situation," Murrue began. "The Earth Forces -specifically, the Atlantic Federation- have issued an ultimatum to Orb. If Orb does not dismiss Representative Athha, dissolve its current government, disarm its military, and join the Earth Alliance, the nation will be deemed a supporter of ZAFT... and the Atlantic Federation's Fourth Naval Fleet will commence offensive operations."

An almost inaudible sigh ran through the massive compartment. The news was no surprise, but anticipation had not robbed the confirmation of its power. They had expected, long since, that they would become embroiled in combat once again; now they knew for certain.

"As you may expect," she continued, "Orb has no intention of complying with these demands. Negotiations are, of course, still in progress... but I must tell you that no one expects them to succeed." She swept her gaze over them all, in the process making brief eye contact with Kira, who smiled reassuringly; apparently, _his_ mind was made up. "Now then, you all know what it was that brought _us_ here, to Orb; you know how the Alliance betrayed us. Therefore, you must all make a personal decision yourselves: whether to remain with the _Archangel_ and fight, or leave the ship, and sit out the war." She paused. "I want you all to know that, whatever your decision, I'm proud of you all; and you've all more than earned the right to leave this war behind."

The assembled crew looked at each other, and some -such as Kuzzey Buskirk- began to think on those words... yet most felt a new determination, instead.

"Those of you who wish to leave," Murrue went on, "will be evacuated, along with most of Orb's civilian population, to the space station Ame-no-Mihashira. There, you should be safe from the Alliance; the station's defenses are strong enough, and the station itself of little enough military significance, that the Earth Forces are unlikely to attack."

"About the only good thing Rondo Ghina Sahaku and his family have ever done," Cagalli muttered; to her left, Ken nodded fractionally.

"As for the rest of us," the Captain continued, "we have, as you know, thrown in our lot with Commander DiFalco's True ZAFT faction. We will stand and fight with Orb, but, as Lord Uzumi himself has insisted, we will have no choice but to flee into space, should the Earth Forces' victory look probable. I warn you now, this is only the beginning. Whatever happens here, we will be continuing the battle in space, to try and stop this war. If we can, however, we would rather have Orb's support... so here we make our stand, to let the Alliance know that we're not prepared to just lie down and die."

Murrue swept her gaze over the hangar once again. "I know I wasn't the best Captain you could've had," she said quietly, "but you are without doubt the best crew anyone could've hoped to have. It's been an honor to have led you."

At a nod from the Captain, Ken stepped forward, resplendent in his red uniform, sword at his side, hands behind his back. "I'm not really accustomed to speeches," he began (which resulted, to his bemusement, in general laughter; for all his philosophical tendencies, he himself wasn't aware of his oratory habits), "so I'll keep this short." He cleared this throat. "As you all know by now, a lot of what's going on has been a direct result of my mistake, nine months ago; but that's neither here nor there. What matters is this: whatever you choose, some will consider you traitors, much as I am regarded as one. But _you_ know the truth: that it was treason by your own superiors that drove you to this. That you had no choice." His eye was bright with a light Cagalli might've called fanaticism; but even if it was, no one had any intention of questioning it. Not today. "After all that you've been through, after the betrayal that brought you to this pass, I realize it's a lot to ask to ask _any_ of you to keep on fighting, even against those who tried to murder you. But," he said firmly, "the line must be drawn here! No more can we let this war continue as it has; and _we_ have the power to make a difference. Make your own choices, let your own consciences dictate your actions, whether it be to leave, or to stay and fight... and don't let anyone tell you you've made the wrong decision!"

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor, June 14th, C.E. 71

* * *

The _Archangel_'s crew had now had a full day to consider the choice before them, of whether or not to stay and fight. Most had, in the end, chosen to complete the transition into the appropriate ZAFT-style uniforms, but eleven had chosen to leave... including Kuzzey Buskirk. 

"So you're really leaving, huh?" Sai said quietly.

"Yeah..." Kuzzey said with a slow nod; for the first time in months, he wore civilian clothing, and carried a small case with the few personal belongings he'd had aboard the ship. "What about you? Aren't you leaving, too?"

Sai shook his head. "No, actually, I'm not; neither is Miriallia. It's... it's hard to explain, but... this ship is our home now. We've spent nearly six months here, fighting alongside Captain Ramius and the others... and Kira. We've been through a lot together, and in all this time, the rest of the _Archangel_'s crew have been the only people to stick by us; them and Orb. The Earth Forces betrayed us, ZAFT destroyed Heliopolis... to us, I guess this crew is family."

Kuzzey swallowed. "Except for Tolle..."

The blonde-haired ECM specialist nodded. "I know; but Tolle died fighting for what he believed in. If I can fight for the same cause he did, if I can make a difference... I can't let him down. I want to see it through to the end, Kuzzey, no matter how dangerous it gets. This is... this is something I have to do."

The other student suddenly felt uncertain. "Well... maybe I should stick around, too..."

Sai gripped his shoulder. "No, Kuzzey; you'd only regret it later. Look, some of us are suited to this kind of work, some of us aren't. I've learned to accept the battles, to face the danger and do my job... but not everyone can do that. Your place is somewhere else, Kuzzey; find it for yourself."

"Find a reason to live," another voice put in. "Find something to believe in, and find it for yourself; and when you do, pass it on to the future."

Kuzzey looked up in surprise, to see Ken coming down the corridor. "Falcon...?"

"No one can tell you what you should do with your life, Kuzzey," the ace told him, crossing his arms. "No one can tell you what path you should take. Only you can decide where you should be going, and what you should be doing. In this world, everyone has choices; there might not always be very many, and sometimes you may find yourself locked into a single course... but those choices are always there, even if that choice is only to determine who _you_ will be at the end of it. A choice that might seem meaningless to an observer, who can't see into your soul, but one that will mean everything to you."

The black-haired teen tilted his head. "So... you don't think I'm a coward or anything?"

Ken shook his head. "It's not cowardice to leave the battle to others, Kuzzey; not when battle is not a thing to which you're suited. We soldiers do things we wish no one had to do... and your personality just isn't suited to that kind of work. Find your own way, Kuzzey. That's all the advice I can give you."

Kuzzey nodded, almost hesitantly. "By the way, Falcon," he began, remembering something, "I want to apologize. I... I never trusted you, after Heliopolis; I knew you weren't responsible for what happened there, but you _were_ ex-ZAFT, so I..."

"There's no need to apologize, Kuzzey," the ace assured him. "I know exactly what you mean. Besides, you're not the only one to have harbored doubts about me; my own partner, Cagalli, thought I was still a ZAFT agent. In fact, we fought over it... and I lost." He smiled ruefully, and rubbed his eyepatch. "Let's just say that this area is still a little sensitive."

"Huh?"

"Never mind; it's not important. What matters is that if I were to take offense at your suspicions, I'd have had to take offense with a close friend of mine, too." Ken clapped him on the shoulder. "So go on, Kuzzey Buskirk, and find the peace denied to those of us who yet must fight."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Maintenance Passage

* * *

"Do you ever get the feeling that Ken might've made a good politician?" Cagalli wondered aloud to Kira (they were in a maintenance passage because Kira had gotten into the habit of using them to navigate the ship months before, and she was content for the moment to follow where he led). "I mean, he _does_ seem to like making speeches." 

Kira considered that. "Nah," he finally decided. "He's long-winded enough, but he speaks his mind too much. From what I've seen, politicians always use qualifiers and vague phrasing. Ken just... tells it like it is."

"And more eloquently than any politician," she agreed. "But you know... I can't help feeling a little worried. I know _he's_ confident, but... I'm not so sure. Orb is going to be in real danger, you know; the path we've chosen to follow..."

He smiled reassuringly. "I know it'll be dangerous, Cagalli; and I also know that Ken isn't anywhere near as confident as he looks. But the important thing isn't winning or losing. The important thing is to make a stand for what we believe in. I know this is the most difficult path Orb could've chosen, but... I think it's the right thing to do. This is something we have to do."

Cagalli nodded slowly. "I... I guess you're right. But still... I'm scared." It was something she would have admitted to very few people -Ken was probably the only other- but it was nonetheless true. "You know, I always thought Orb's neutrality was unrealistic, maybe even wrong, but... now that we're actually getting ready to fight, I don't know _what_ I think. What if everything goes wrong, and we lose? Orb will be devastated; and I know the _Archangel_ will be leaving then, and I'll be left behind, while you..."

Kira laid a hand on her shoulder. "We're not going down without a fight, Cagalli," he assured her. "And as for being left behind... Ken told me he and Lord Uzumi talked about that. For one thing, you're going to be flying the second Strike -the Strike Rouge, I think they called it- which makes you a valuable pilot. And you're also the heir of Orb, so the entire government wouldn't like the idea of you being left here under Earth Forces occupation. So apparently, when we pull out, whether it's after victory or defeat... you'll be coming with us."

She blinked, eyes beginning to fill. "I am...?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Lord Uzumi would want you to be safe... and you're one of us, y'know? We wouldn't leave you behind." He smiled again. "No way we'd leave you behind."

To Kira's surprise, Cagalli suddenly threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Kira," she said into his shoulder. "I just... don't want to lose you again."

He blinked, feeling off-balance. "Uh, well," he managed, "you're not going to lose me. I promise I won't let something like that happen again, okay?"

"You'd better not," she told him fiercely. "I thought you were dead last time; this time, I don't want to be stuck on Earth while you're risking your life up there. You _know_ how dangerous Ken's plans tend to be. They _work,_ sure... but I want to be there to keep you out of trouble."

"I thought it was _me_ keeping _you_ out of trouble," Kira protested. "Like at Heliopolis... or when I had to go find you and Ken after you crashed in the Indian Ocean..."

"Kira," Cagalli told him, tone affectionate yet somehow... dangerous, "shut up."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, June 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

_The hardest part of war,_ Natarle Badgiruel thought, sitting in CIC, _really _is _the waiting. So some clichés have basis in reality after all..._

Not that they'd be waiting much longer now. They knew exactly when the Atlantic Federation's deadline was going to be up, which meant they knew exactly when battle would begin in... exactly when the enemy forces would pour across the Orb border.

Exactly when the dying would begin again.

Natarle, quite frankly, couldn't understand Ken DiFalco's unnerving calm. She'd passed him on her way to the Bridge, and he'd looked as if he hadn't a care in the world; his old mask-like expression was in evidence, but he certainly hadn't looked _worried._

_On the other hand,_ she mused, _it's hardly his first major fleet engagement. He was at the Bloody Valentine, Jachin, the L4 battles... he even _commanded _a fleet engagement at Nova, during his "Operation Aquila". Besides, if all this goes badly, his Preybird will _still _probably get out more or less intact._

_None of which makes the waiting any easier._

Then, at last, the waiting was over. At 0900 hours, Flay Allster, who had taken Kuzzey's place at communications, lifted her head. In a voice whose calm was born of nearly being shot to death at Alaska, she announced, "We have radar contacts, Captain. Receiving Earth Alliance IFF data."

"Confirmed," Sai reported. "Readings consistent with _Tarawa-_class carriers; their design appears to have been modified, probably as mobile suit carriers."

"Understood," Murrue acknowledged, far more calmly than she felt. "All hands to Level One Battlestations. Arnold," she told the helmsman (like the mainline ZAFT, Ken's forces used few ranks), "prepare to move out."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Natarle keyed her intercom. "All hands to Level One Battlestations. Repeat, all hands to Level One Battlestations. Commander DiFalco, Case Red is now in effect." She paused. "Sir... we're at war."

* * *

Author's note: Kuzzey Buskirk has left the _Archangel..._ and the attack on Orb has begun. Meanwhile, it seems the Earth Forces have new weapons waiting in the wings... 

Yes, yes, I know; another late update, and one that doesn't quite get to the battle after all. Well, in this case, I managed to get consumed by an RPG -the Xenosaga series tends to do that- and I also wasn't sure where I was going with a couple of scenes. Next chapter should be ready much faster, since it's a battle; I'm never quite satisfied with them -which is why I'm always a little puzzled by how popular they tend to be- but at least I tend not to have trouble writing them. Till then, feast on this... and on some of my blatant plot twists. -Solid Shark


	32. Chapter 32: Bloadsoaked Battlefield

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar, June 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

_"Commander DiFalco, Case Red is now in effect. Sir... we're at war."_

Within ZGMF-X00A Preybird, Commander Ken DiFalco, alias the Falcon of the Grimaldi Front, closed his right eye. These were words that he'd been expecting; he'd known exactly when the deadline would pass, and the Atlantic Federation's Fourth Naval Fleet would begin military action.

But knowing the moment and _living_ the moment were two entirely different things, and he discovered now that, deep down, he'd never truly believed the Earth Forces would actually do it. That they would actually attack Orb -a nation mostly made up of Naturals, like the Atlantic Federation itself- on a trumped-up charge like this.

Intellectually, of course... This was something he'd prepared for ever since the Panama attack destroyed the Alliance's last mass driver. From that moment on, the Alliance's primary objective had been to acquire a mass driver... and Orb's Kaguya mass driver would undoubtedly be, from their point of view, the easiest target.

_Time to show them how wrong they are._

Ken's eye opened; a single second had ticked by on his time display. "This is Commander DiFalco," he said clearly into his radio; he was broadcasting to all of Orb's mobile suit forces, and its naval fleet. "The waiting is over; Case Red is in effect as of now. Remember the plan we discussed... and Godspeed." He paused a beat; it still felt strange, giving the order he was about to announce, but Lord Uzumi and Colonel Kisaka has insisted. It was his plan... and he was crazy idiot who'd started it all. "All forces, engage the enemy."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Launch _Archangel,_ Arnold," Murrue ordered, in the wake of the pilot's command. "Romero, arm all weapons; Sai, prepare electronic countermeasures." 

"Yes, Ma'am," Sai acknowledged, as the mobile assault ship began to move out. "Preparing ECM and ECCM, in accordance with Case Red Alpha."

"More information coming in from the Fleet, Captain," Flay reported. "The carriers are launching mobile suits; Orb Command reports airborne transports are dropping mobile suits on Izanagi."

"Confirmed," Sai concurred. "Catalogue reports match with the units Falcon's reconnaissance observed at Panama; tentatively ID'd as 'Strike Daggers'. It appears to be a mass-produced variant of the Strike, Ma'am, lacking only Phase-shift and Striker pack compatibility."

"For which we should be thankful," Murrue murmured. "Very well; order our own mobile suits to launch immediately. Ken," she went on, activating her intercom, "are you ready for this?" Her tone was considerably softer now. "You'll probably have to shoot to kill..."

On her right armrest screen, Ken smiled thinly. _"Don't worry about it, Murrue,"_ he said coldly. _"I accepted that long ago... and I never had _any _problem killing Earth Alliance flunkies."_ The light in his visible eye was very nearly as chilling as the silver tracery in his left. _"The leader of Blue Cosmos, Muruta Azrael himself, is out here... and they will pay for the Bloody Valentine."_ He saluted crisply. _"We're go for launch, Murrue. Meanwhile, inform Onogoro it's time to test the Astrays under combat conditions."_

She nodded. "I'll pass it along, Ken. And... be careful out there."

Ken smiled more naturally. _"Oh, come on; like I'd let myself die before I take out GENESIS? Not a chance, my friend."_

His image winked out, and Murrue shook her head. _One thing you can say for the man,_ she thought fondly. _Once he makes up his mind, the world had better watch out..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

"This is it," Ken murmured, checking Preybird's systems. "In just a few minutes, I won't be the only one here who's officially a traitor to his country." 

"You stopped being the only one back at Alaska," Dearka said dryly. "When you convinced me to protect the 'legged ship'... when I opened fire on Yzak."

"Would you two shut up already?" Yzak interjected irritably. "We have a war to fight, don't we? And Freedom," he added harshly, "I'll be watching you out there. You'd better not do anything to humiliate me again, or I swear I'll..."

Kira tilted his head. "Same for you, Duel," he said, just a bit coolly. "I don't want you shooting down a bunch of civilians, like that refugee shuttle you blasted in orbit."

Duel's pilot flinched. "What are you talking about?"

"We don't have time for this," Mu interrupted. "In case you people haven't noticed, the enemy is right on our doorstep."

"Right," Ken acknowledged. "Bridge, this is Falcon; moving to the catapult."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mir replied. _"Launch when ready. Do you need a partner?"_

"He'll be fine," Cagalli answered for him, from Strike Rouge. "If he needs one, he's got me; but I think he'll leave us all in the dust anyway."

"Whatever," the ace muttered, connecting to the catapult. "This is the Grimaldi Falcon. Preybird, launching."

As Preybird blazed out into the sky, and vanished into Mirage Colloid, Kira's Freedom entered the catapult. _Ken's right,_ he thought. _This _is _it; there's no turning back from the path we've chosen. At least... at least with Freedom, I won't have to kill anyone..._

_"Freedom, connected to catapult,"_ Mir called. _"You're clear, Kira."_

He nodded decisively. "Roger that. Kira Yamato, Freedom launching!" The former ZAFT prototype followed its archetype into the blue sky, glorious blue wings shedding sparkles of red.

Cagalli shook her head. "You _do_ have a flair for the dramatic, Kira," she murmured, while Strike Rouge was maneuvered into the starboard catapult. "Even your machine's in on it..."

_"You're connected, Strike Rouge,"_ Mir reported. _"It's your first battle, Cagalli; are you ready for this?"_

"Try and stop me," the blonde replied. "I have to do my part, just like everybody else." She tightened her grip on her controls. "Strike Rouge, heading out!"

"Those two are a perfect match," Mu muttered. "Both idealistic, impulsive... and people you don't want to get mad." He keyed his radio. "Okay, Kestrel, I guess it's you and me next; you ready, 'partner'?"

Sophia grinned. "I may not be in a G-weapon, but I've been itching to try out a mobile suit. Let's go, O Hawk of Endymion... and make the impossible possible."

"Hey, that's _my_ line."

Dearka shook his head. "Ugh; their wisecracking in the face of danger reinforces itself when they're together," he said despairingly. "Yzak, maybe we should get out of here before the one-liners kill us both."

"Oh, shut up, Dearka," Yzak grumbled. "Let's just go out there and shoot something before I die of frustration."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Outdoors

* * *

It was an impressive array of machines that went out to meet the Atlantic Federation's attack. The vanguard was a force of M1 Astrays, foremost among them a trio piloted by Asagi Caldwell, Mayura Labatt, and Juri Wu Nien; ahead of them was the Orb navy, and behind were various armored vehicles... and the _Archangel._

The _Archangel,_ a formidable force in her own right, deployed a series of mobile suits of her own; first the Preybird, which vanished almost instantly into Mirage Colloid, then the Freedom, and the Strike Rouge -identical to the Strike save for its red-tinted Phase-shift, power extender... and the Integrated Weapons Striker Pack, which gave it even more firepower than the original Strike could boast, save in Launcher configuration.

Behind them came the _original_ Strike, in Aile mode, and a gold and sapphire Astray. Equipped with a nuclear reactor, the custom unit also featured a beam sniper rifle, borrowed from a space-adapted M1A. Keeping close to Mu's unit, Sophia's lightly-armored machine would be a force to be reckoned with.

Bringing up the rear were the Duel and Buster. Yzak's machine clove into the sky first, and Yzak grinned as his new wings spread from the assault shroud's spinal support. "Now _this_ is more like it!" he said happily. "Time to show these Earth Forces bastards that they don't control the sky!"

"I think the others are doing an adequate job of that already," Dearka commented dryly; as he spoke, his own machine's six wings unfolded, granting the previously almost-immobile Buster far greater maneuverability than ever before. "But at least we can get a piece of the action."

Unfortunately, their opposition wasn't the sort to just lie down and die. Ahead of them lay the Atlantic Federation's Fourth Naval Fleet, commanded in theory by Admiral James Hamilton... commanded in fact by Muruta Azrael. In addition to the usual assortment of carriers, cruisers, and other escort ships, the fleet had launched fighters, mobile suits... and airborne transports carrying _more_ mobile suits, for direct delivery to the island shores.

This battle would not be won easily.

"All right, people," Ken called, from his invisible command post. "Remember the plan. Kira, Cagalli, you two stick together; Mu, you and Yzak act as free agents, attacking when you see an opportunity. Dearka, you and Sophia provide support fire."

"Got it, Ken," Kira answered, echoed quickly by Cagalli; he might have a slight edge in piloting, but he knew Ken was a far better strategist, and so a much better choice for overall command of the battle... even if the younger pilot had no idea how the ace managed to keep track of everything.

"I'm on it," Mu called, boosting his new machine into the air. "Just give me a few minutes to get the hang of the real thing, and I'll be fine."

"Just give me something to shoot at," Yzak grumbled. "I'll hold up my end."

Sophia glanced at the Buster. "You and me, huh?" she mused. "Good thing we get along a little better than we used to, eh?"

"Yeah," Dearka agreed. "Of course, in battle you can stand just about anybody."

She raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

He laughed. "Hey, I never yet tried to kill Yzak, have I?"

"I heard that!" In a momentary -and typical- fit of pique, Yzak whipped his machine around, aimed his rifle, and sent a blast of emerald energy into the torso of the first enemy mobile suit to enter his sights. The stream of intensively-powerful energy splintered the Strike Dagger's hatch, detonated the control panel, and blew the pilot to a cloud of vapor.

"I think you got your point across, Yzak," Ken said dryly. "Keep it up."

"Oh, just shut up," Yzak muttered under his breath. Taking orders from the Grimaldi Falcon wasn't quite as bad as taking them from Athrun Zala, but it still bothered him.

Of course, he'd _never_ been terribly fond of taking orders, even from Commander Le Creuset.

* * *

Fourth Naval Fleet, _Tarawa_-class Carrier _Powell, _Bridge

* * *

"And so it begins," Muruta Azrael murmured. "I must say, Orb seems to be putting up a spirited fight; and they have more state-of-the-art mobile suits than I'd expected." 

Admiral Hamilton nodded. "Indeed; and they have assistance that, in retrospect, we should've expected." He nodded at a display. "It would appear, Director, that the _Archangel_ survived the Cyclops... and they seem to have recovered -and duplicated- the Strike."

Azrael frowned. "The _Archangel..._ that's the ship that had a Coordinator aboard, isn't it? The Strike was piloted by someone called Yamato, or something like that... and those Coordinator lovers even accepted the services of the Grimaldi Falcon." He smiled slowly. "You know, Admiral, I think this may be even more interesting than I'd hoped. I can't wait to see what sort of sneaky scheme the vaunted 'Grimaldi Falcon' has up his sleeve... and with that many high-tech machines, we've got even more reason to bring out the new models."

The admiral raised an eyebrow. "Do we launch those three?"

"Yes..." The civilian frowned thoughtfully. "If I remember right, that machine that saved the _Archangel_ out here a few months ago was concluded to be an Orb unit. If it _was,_ then it's out here somewhere, too... so launch the fourth prototype, as well. We'll need the X215's speed to deal with it."

Hamilton nodded. "Begin launch operations," he ordered. "Deploy GAT units X131, 215, 252, and 370 immediately. Inform Lieutenant Cateau that, while she is to engage at will for the time being, if the interloper appears she is to concentrate her efforts against it. Capture if possible; otherwise... destroy it."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Outdoors

* * *

The battle had begun in earnest now. Strike Daggers were landing on the islands, dropped by airborne transports, while their fellows perched on ships, adding to the vessels' shore bombardment with their own powerful beam weapons. 

Here and there, an Astray fell, blown apart by the enemy fire, but for the most part Morgenroete's creations were proving more than a match for machines which, as it was becoming increasingly clear, were rush-jobs. Painstaking engineering won out over expediency, and for every Astray destroyed, two Daggers went down.

Of course, the Fourth Fleet had plenty more where they came from.

There were also inevitable problems even for the Astray pilots who _did_ survive. Short on actual combat experience, they moved clumsily at times, with predictable -and life-threatening- results.

Juri, hard-pressed by a determined Strike Dagger, retreated desperately, firing her CIWS in an effort to gain breathing space. "Get away-!"

White, blue, and red flashed by, just beyond the Dagger; a streak of emerald pierced the machine, ripping into vulnerable power systems, and the machine erupted in flames and oily smoke. "Gotcha," Mu said smugly, taking to the air again. "Doesn't matter how much armor you put on 'em if a beam will go right through... and these guys don't seem much interested in armor anyway."

"Thanks, Commander," Juri said breathlessly, redeeming her performance of a moment before by slicing a Dagger in half with one of her sabers. "Thought I was done for."

"Don't mention," he told her with a grin. "And don't call me Commander; in True ZAFT, Falcon's the only 'Commander'. I'm just a grunt... and I like it that way."

"Um... right..." She, along with her fellow test pilots, were continually bemused by the likes of Ken DiFalco and Mu La Flaga... and Sophia DiFalco, for that matter. They were all legends in their own right, but they insisted on being treated just like anyone else. It left them confused, unsure of how to act around them.

Kira Yamato was something else. He was swiftly acquiring a reputation of his own, but he remained fundamentally what he was: a young, teenage pilot, who was still getting used to the idea of having the power to make a difference. It wasn't that he was somehow... more approachable than the senior pilots; more that he acted the way they expected him to.

And right now, he was doing _exactly_ what they expected him to: wreaking general havoc on the battlefield.

Right now, he flew high above, keeping an eye on the situation at large; he was ready to lend a hand where needed, while his -appropriately- assigned partner handled more offensive work. Glancing down, Kira winced slightly. Cagalli had whipped out one of the IWSP's nine-meter shipkilling blades, and now held it in a two-handed grip. With a snarl of anger at the people who had dared to invade her homeland, she swung at a Dagger; the huge, katana-like sword entered at the right shoulder, sheared downward with a scream of protesting metal -and eviscerated pilot- and ripped out the left hip. The machine's halves slowly began to slide apart... and then exploded, throwing shrapnel everywhere.

"That'll teach you," Cagalli muttered, and boosted back into the air.

Kira shook his head. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't blame Cagalli for her tactics; she had as much reason as Ken to be angry with the Earth Forces, and her anger, if less tightly-controlled -a given, what with Ken's unbelievable self-control- it was also more tightly-focused. Where Ken had a short way with anyone who dared to obstruct his plan, Cagalli's wrath was reserved -for the moment- exclusively for the Earth Forces. ZAFT as a whole -as opposed to Rau Le Creuset- had not yet earned her full ire.

_But if they do... we'd all better watch out._ He smiled slightly to himself. _Nobody gets in the way of _that _princess if they want to stay intact..._

He shook off those thoughts, seeing a half-dozen Strike Daggers that had made the mistake of clustering together... where Freedom's targeting systems could see them. His face a calm mask, Kira brought up his advanced targeting, waited the few moments for the computer to lock in all the targets... and unfolded his plasma and rail cannons, while raising his beam rifle.

Earth Forces pilots cried out in surprise as limbs, heads, and weapons were sheared away by the impossibly-precise fire from above. Two Daggers fell, each with a leg ending in a molten stump, heads -and targeting systems- blown away completely. Two more simply had their weapons explode, while the final pair were unlucky enough to lose all fours limbs _and_ their heads.

Ken watched from his cloaked Preybird in something akin to disbelief. _How did he _do _that?_ the ace wondered. _Sure, Freedom's designed for long-range interception of multiple simultaneous targets, but the system was never intended for targeting _individual limbs _like that!_

Admittedly, he himself could do the same... with his DRAGOON system, or his beam rifles. But dismembering that many targets at once, with weapons as large -and clumsy- as plasma cannons...

_Kira is far from ordinary,_ Ken realized. _There's more to him than any of us ever thought... more than any of us ever imagined was _possible. _What kind of genetic modifications went into him, anyway? Spatial awareness to rival my own, the eyesight of an eagle... and the reflexes of a rattlesnake._

He didn't understand exactly how Kira could be capable of such a thing... but there was one thing he _did_ know: he never, ever wanted to face Kira Yamato on the battlefield. He was confident he could survive it, and certainly inflict massive damage on the Freedom... but surviving didn't necessarily mean winning.

_This is the one pilot alive who could fight _me _to a stalemate... or worse..._

He hoped he'd never have to find out firsthand.

Ken shook himself, returning his attention to the overall tactical situation. He remained under cloak for now -though in less than twenty minutes now, the Mirage Colloid would dissipate beyond the point of usefulness- because he preferred to keep Preybird as a hole card for as long as possible. The Earth Forces knew of the machine's existence, certainly -given the incident outside of Orb in March, there was no way to avoid that- but it was highly unlikely they realized just how capable it was. If they based their estimates off the performance of its incomplete version, they'd be in for a nasty surprise when the time came to engage...

For now, the battle seemed to be in the defenders' favor. Only a handful of Astrays had fallen, and Strike Daggers were falling left and right; meanwhile, the armored vehicles that did little to mobile suits were doing a fair of job of air defense, shooting down the enemy aircraft with relative ease. And, of course, the various G-weapons were wreaking havoc of their own.

Shiho had been forced to sit this battle out, unfortunately; her CGUE DEEP Arms -she refused to fly anything else, even temporarily- was clearly a ZAFT model, and it wouldn't do to show the Earth Forces that some elements of ZAFT _were_ aiding Orb, after all.

_Not yet, anyway..._

He glanced again at his Mirage Colloid status. _Fifteen minutes..._

* * *

Mu cursed, catching a beam blast on his shield. "There's no end to these guys," he hissed. "Just how many mobile suits can those ships carry, anyway?" 

"Too many," Yzak muttered. He fired a hypervelocity shell from his railgun, and had the satisfaction of seeing the Dagger he'd targeted detonate spectacularly; evidently, the shot had pierced the torso at exactly the right spot to hit the machine's battery, triggering a massive -and catastrophic- energy release. "But they can't keep throwing these pathetic toys at us forever. Either they'll run out, or they'll try something fancy."

"I'm betting something fancy," Sophia grunted, and raised her own weapon. A beat later, she fired; the emerald dart smashed through a Dagger's cockpit, vaporized the pilot, and blasted out the other side through the verniers. The machine stood still for a moment, then toppled slowly to the ground... and exploded. The Kestrel cursed then, and raised her shield to splatter an incoming shot. "Anyway," she went on, "whatever else I may think of the current Alliance command, I don't think they're stupid... and they had to have at least suspected they'd encounter top of the line machines. They've got something up their sleeves; I just don't know what... Watch it!"

Strike, Duel, and Astray alike scattered just in time to avoid a pair of heavy green cylinders that came down from the sky. The energy expended itself in a brilliant flash on the ground... but the fact that it was there in the first place boded ill, as did the burst of machine gun fire that followed it.

"Hmph," Orga Sabnak, pilot of GAT-X131 Calamity, grunted. "Missed..."

"So maybe you should aim better next time," Clotho Buer, piloting the machine upon which Calamity rode, X370 Raider, shot back. "Those guys are fast."

"Not fast enough," Shani Andras whispered, triggering X252 Forbidden's Hresvelgr plasma cannon. The weapon would ordinarily have missed completely, but the magnetic field generated between a pair of railguns sufficed to guide it towards its target.

Mu hissed in surprise and consternation, even as he took the brilliant red bolt on his shield. "New Earth Forces models? You were right, Sophia; they _did_ have something up their sleeves."

"Yeah," Sophia acknowledged. "And whatever they are, they have Phase-shift... which not all of _us_ do. Falcon?" she called. "Now might be a good time..."

There was no verbal response... but a sudden flowing effect in the open air revealed a crimson and gray machine in mid-flight. ZGMF-X00A Preybird had entered the hunt.

* * *

As far as the Earth Forces were concerned, it was like a demon had suddenly entered the battlefield... as was, essentially, the case. Preybird already gripped its Gerbera Straight in both hands, and all ten wings were spread; it looked like an avenging angel of death, and without hesitation it went among its enemies. 

A Dagger simply fell apart, components slashed and shattered by the right-shoulder-to-left-hip diagonal slash, and another fell when Preybird whipped to the left, the violent spinning motion sweeping the incredibly-sharp katana through the Strike Dagger's waist. The pilot survived the initial blow... but the subsequent explosion left no doubt as to his fate.

The DRAGOON units fell from Preybird's wings in the middle of the carnage, and they allocated their beams with lethal precision. An entire squadron of F-7Ds vanished, shattered and melted by forty emerald streams directed against only twelve targets. Incoming shells from the main guns of warships were targeted with unreal precision and blown away before they reached shore; missile swarms ceased to exist under the fire of emerald fury.

The most lethal of the Gray Demons had been unleashed upon his traditional foes once again, and where the instruments of his wrath could reach, no Earth Alliance unit was safe.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"That isn't a man," Murrue whispered, catching sight of Preybird's rampage. "That's a force of nature..." 

"Commander DiFalco seems to have matters under control, for the moment," Natarle observed. "Shall we concentrate our fire on the enemy fleet?"

"Hmm...? Oh, yes, do that," the Captain answered, shaking herself loose from her morbid fascination. "Yes, I think we should leave the mobile suits to the others, for now."

"Orb forces are continuing to hold out," Sai reported. "Astrays currently outnumber Strike Daggers; though it appears likely the Fourth Fleet has a number of them in reserve. So far, our fleet has lost only three _Aegis_-class cruisers, though loss rates are expected to rise."

"Understood. Concentrate fire on the carriers; if we can take those down, we should be able to reduce the threat."

"Signal from _Hades,_ Captain," Flay called. "Four unidentified machines have been launched; three are already engaged with our units."

Murrue looked at her sharply. "And the fourth?"

"The fourth unknown mobile suit is heading for Sector Three, Captain," Mir reported. "Ma'am... it's heading directly for Preybird."

The Captain cursed to herself. "Very well; warn Ken he can expect something a little more challenging in a few moments."

"Already on it."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Outdoors

* * *

One machine hung high above the battlefield, unknown to either side. Unlike every other mobile suit in the area, it was simply observing... while its pilot prepared to make a difficult decision. 

_So it's begun,_ Athrun Zala thought. _The Earth Forces really _have _attacked... and the Freedom is right in the middle of it. So now... what do _I _do?_

He didn't know the answer to that question yet; so for now, he chose to watch, and get a sense of what was going on. One thing, though, was clear: his assessment of Preybird's capabilities had been just about exactly right. The machine was engaged in a close-combat assault on a group of Strike Daggers, using only its Gerbera Straight, while relying on its DRAGOON system for point-defense. It was a Gray Demon in truth, letting nothing stand in its way...

The Freedom's actions proved to him once and for all that it was, indeed, his friend Kira Yamato in the cockpit. No one else would be using that massive firepower to systematically disarm -not destroy- that many targets. And no one else would be _capable_ of the precision he was displaying; possibly not even the Grimaldi Falcon himself.

Orb seemed to have the upper hand here, and yet... those newly-arrived Alliance machines might well tip the balance. Something about the way they fought, and the massive firepower they were bringing to bear... Athrun's intuition told him that those three machines -and the fourth, headin straight for Preybird- were far more of a threat than they seemed.

_And the probability that the Earth Forces have nuclear weapons waiting in reserve... Can Orb even hope to win this?_

Athrun didn't know. But now, he began to feel that, just perhaps, he _did_ know what he needed to do... the path that was right for him.

* * *

Kira was the first to spot the machine that seemed headed straight for Preybird. Long-limbed and spindly-looking, it was a brilliant white... and appeared to be armed only with a beam rifle and some kind of beam knife. The armament mix looked ridiculous, at first glance, but Kira didn't need his mentor's long experience with mobile suits to realize that the light armor and minimal weaponry were compensated for by the machine's incredible speed. 

"Ken," he warned over the radio, "you've got someone heading right for you; another one of the new Earth Forces machines-" He broke off, dodging around a plasma shot from Forbidden. "Watch yourself," he finished hurriedly, and turned back to his own battle.

"Got it, Kira," Ken murmured, swinging Preybird around. "Be careful, amigo." He could spare no more time for worrying about his friend, though; now the new machine was coming for him on foot, and moving very, very fast. He'd need all his skill -and wits- to pull this one off.

The white machine came to an abrupt stop right in front of him, and his radio crackled. "This is Lieutenant Alicia Cateau, Earth Alliance Forces, pilot of GAT-X215 Cobra. You are hereby instructed to surrender immediately and disarm your weapons, or I will destroy you."

The ace raised an eyebrow. "Not going to happen, Lieutenant," he said calmly. "I've come a lot farther than you can possibly know, and I'm not about to give up now."

In Cobra's cockpit, Cateau shook her head. "Then the blood is on your own hands, sir." She raised her beam knife, and sprinted.

Another pilot might've been confused, left off-balance by the rapid circle Cobra was making around Preybird. Ken, on the other hand, was merely watching impassively, as though completely unconcerned... though one Cagalli Yula Athha would've known better. It was merely his habit of gathering information about an enemy before he struck.

Cateau, on the other hand, knew nothing of this. _What's he doing?_ she wondered. _Does he intend to just sit there and die, or has my tactic been even more successful than usual? Something about this doesn't smell right... it reminds me too much of the Bloody Valentine... Well, only one way to find out._

Cobra stopped circling, coming to a rest directly behind Preybird, and the knife lashed out for the machine's main vernier. One good stab to that location, even with Phase-shift, should be enough to reach the power systems, and destroy the target in one fell swoop... except that Preybird was suddenly no longer there.

Cateau cursed in amazement. One moment, the machine was there, the next it had gone straight up in a flash, and now it twisted in the air with an agility a mobile suit shouldn't have been capable of, stooped... and transmitted a single, chilling message.

With the inhuman, ascending wail of a peregrine falcon, Preybird fell from the sky, Gerbera Straight replaced by a beam saber, and Cobra had no time to react. The blade of frozen fire, given fearsome impetuous by the fall, made contact with Cobra's right shoulder, melting away Phase-shift, thin battle armor, and control circuits alike; the limb dropped to the ground, sparking and useless.

Before Cateau could begin to recover from the shock, Preybird had landed on one knee... and now swept its saber to the right, going through Cobra's waist in an explosion of molten and shattered metal. The white machine, its helpless pilot cursing all the while, toppled off its legs, landing next to its severed arm.

"All right, interloper," Cateau hissed. "Finish me; I probably deserve it anyway."

Preybird's head shook in a surprisingly human-like movement. "Sorry, Lieutenant," the unfamiliar voice of the interloper's pilot said. "But you can't interrogate a corpse, and for all my hatred of you people for what you've done to the PLANTs, I don't take out my vengeance on a poor soul whose machine has been rendered helpless." It turned to look at another voice, which had just arrived; the new one was the red-tinted copy of the Strike, with its peculiar backpack. "Cagalli," Preybird's pilot said, "take this hulk back to Onogoro's base facilities, will you? I'll want to talk to the pilot when this is done."

Judging from the brief hesitation, Strike Rouge's pilot clearly wanted to argue; but, judging from the tone of the other pilot's voice, he was in overall command, no matter how informal things might seem. "All right, Ken," she said finally. "But I'm coming right back out here, understand? I'm not going to stay back and keep out of trouble, if that's what you're hoping for."

A chuckle. "Cagalli, I wouldn't have gone to this much trouble to get you flying in the first place if I expected -or wanted- you to." Preybird looked back down at Cobra. "I'll deal with you later, Lieutenant. Right now, I have a battle to fight."

Cateau didn't even protest being captured; she was too busy considering the implications of the mysterious pilot's words. _Hatred for what we've done to the PLANTs...? So ZAFT _is _involved here, or at least some elements... I wonder if Headquarters even realizes they were accidentally right..._ She swallowed, remembering something from her own past. _I just hope that man is serious about not taking vengeance, after what I did..._

* * *

By the time Ken had dealt with the Cobra, and Cagalli had retreated from the battlefield, Kira was fully engaged against the other three machines. He fought alone, as Strike, Buster, Duel, and Sophia's Astray were all busy dealing with Strike Daggers... and right now, he wished he didn't. 

_I know Ken thinks I'm some kind of super-pilot or something,_ he thought to himself, exchanging shots with the Calamity, _but right now, I'm not feeling that special. No,_ he corrected himself, sideslipping to dodge a plasma beam, _I _am _feeling special... or at least these guys seem to think I am!_

Kira spread Freedom's wings wide, opening them into HiMAT configuration, and targeted all his weapons on the Forbidden. "Take this!" he shouted.

Shani laughed. "You really think you can hit me, loser?" To Kira's astonishment, the instant his fire reached Forbidden's shields, the plasma and laser streams simply curved away, refusing to touch the machine. The hypervelocity rail cannon shells still connected, and forced Shani back... but with Phase-shift still up, they were nothing more than tiny thorns... if that.

Orga chuckled. "Shani, Clotho, you two take care of this guy; I'm going to play with the ships for awhile, got it?"

"Yeah, whatever," Clotho muttered. "If you're gonna go, at least get off my back, will ya? Freeloading jackass..."

"I heard that!" Nonetheless, Calamity obligingly jumped off Raider's back, heading for land, thus allowing Raider to transform into its mobile suit mode... which just happened to be equipped with a weapon called the Mjollnir spherical breaker, resembling an old-fashioned ball and chain, which happened to be massive enough to damage Phase-shift armor.

Slightly.

_Well, at least now I'm down to only _two _enemies,_ Kira thought, almost sardonically. _But both of them have heavy weapons, and can fly in atmosphere..._

He considered asking Ken for advice, but decided against it. He probably didn't need it... and he knew what the ace was likely to say anyway. "If you've never seen it before," Kira muttered, "watch it for awhile, find out what makes it tick... and then hit it where it'll explode. Yeah, that's about what he'd say..."

All right; fast-thinking tactics-choosing time. First applicable adage: never face twice your numbers if you can avoid it. So, divide and conquer; knock one of them out of the equation long enough to at least get a few good hits on the other. Alternate between targets until both are molten masses of wreckage.

_The black machine first,_ Kira decided. _Knock him away, then engage the green one in close combat. Man, I wish Ken was in range; he's the melee specialist..._

Unfortunately, Preybird was then engaged with its own problems. Calamity's unexpected leap had landed it right in front of Ken's machine, with heavy firepower... and facing Ken with a machine he'd never seen before. Right now, he was using his light-wave barrier to intercept everything thrown at him, while he hurriedly attempted to determine what weak points Calamity had... or at least how to get past the nuisance. An additional problem was the strain imposed on the light-wave barrier itself; though with nuclear power, its duration was effectively unlimited, there was only so much strain the generator itself could take before the entire system collapsed...

Which meant Kira was completely on his own for this one.

Well, he wasn't the sort to just give up and die; or stand around wringing his hands till he got blown away. _Time to see if Freedom is really as good as I thought._

Kira cartwheeled Freedom to its right, causing a plasma beam to -barely- miss; and, just incidentally, cause Raider's next Mjollnir strike to streak past Freedom into Forbidden's shields. The impact wasn't enough to do catastrophic damage, but it _did_ send the machine back nearly a hundred meters... and irritate Shani.

"Watch it, you idiot!" he snapped. "He's the target, not me!"

"Then aim better yourself, loser," Clotho shot back. "That plasma shot nearly hit _me!"_

"It would've served you right!"

"Why, you-!"

Kira shook his head in utter bemusement. _How can these guys expect to get anything done if all they do is scream at each other? Well, I'm not about to complain..._

Taking advantage of the short lull (though given the insults between hurled between the two Alliance pilots, "lull" was not, perhaps, the best word), he threw Freedom back, and got ready for another range-weapon assault. "Dodge this!" he hissed, and pulled the trigger.

Kira's action proved successful, despite having directed all his fire at the Forbidden... for the machine's Geschmeidig Panzer defense was still up. That resulted in the rail cannons shots impacting on Forbidden's physical shields... while the two plasma beams and the emerald dart from his beam rifle curved away, on a course that just happened to intersect with the Raider.

The machine's left shoulder was blown away, vanishing in a flash of green, and took a mobile armor-mode machine gun with it, while at the same moment, powerful red streams burned away both mobile armor claws.

Clotho snarled in outrage at the damage to his machine. "Shani, you bastard! Watch where you use that thing!"

A pair of emerald blasts from below interrupted their petty squabbling. "Shut up, you idiots!" Orga snapped. "Or didn't you notice you've got somebody right next to you shooting at you?"

Forbidden and Raider burst apart, as their pilots were reminded of their overall mission... and the consequences if they forgot it again. "Right," Clotho managed, in a saner voice. "C'mon, Shani, let's get this guy. _He's_ the one behind this!"

Shani smiled thinly. "Right. Die, you bastard!"

Kira didn't swallow; he was the veteran of too many battles to despair. Nonetheless, the sight of both those machines coming at him again, intent on blasting him out of the sky, was most unwelcome... and most unhealthy. _Here we go again..._

The next few moments were a blur, with machine gun fire, laser beams, and plasma streams going everywhere. Somehow, Freedom danced around everything thrown at it, even managing to return fire twice, but Kira Yamato was outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered.

Then a narrow beam of red light pierced the heavens, and a column of white light retraced its path...

Kira, recognizing the effect, hurriedly threw Freedom to one side. _Now these guys are in for it..._ In one sense, he wasn't pleased with the tactic being employed, since it would certainly destroy anything it touched; on the other hand, it would very probably save his _own_ life.

True to the pilot's expectation, a stream of red-orange fire, tightly-focused, erupted from ZGMF-X00A Preybird, aimed precisely at Forbidden, and, behind it, Raider. "Try this, Alliance scum," Ken hissed, eye narrowed. "Now you've gone way too far!"

Forbidden vanished behind the tremendous energy release, obscured by the meeting of matter and antimatter... but the stream suddenly arced upward, spearing into the sky instead of annihilating the machine it had been targeted upon.

Ken stared, shocked in a way nothing had shocked him in over eight months. "Impossible," he whispered. "Nothing short of a light-wave barrier can defend against that; and _nothing_ can _deflect_ it!"

For all his vaunted observational skills, the ace had been too busy with Cobra and Calamity to notice the Geschmeidig Panzers; now he was paying for it.

Shani laughed. "Loser! You think _that_ will help you?"

"Maybe that won't," another voice hissed, "but this will!"

In Freedom's cockpit, Kira's head snapped around. _It can't be!_

Even the ever-unflappable Ken -still in shock over the failure of his Nataraja attack- could do nothing but stare at the mobile suit that came down from the sky like a crimson angel of death... and if _he_ could do nothing, the pair of Earth Alliance pilots could do less than nothing.

Athrun Zala began his blitzkrieg attack by blasting Raider in the face with a Lupus beam rifle -twin to the weapon Freedom carried- thus effectively knocking the machine out of the fight; with the head gone, Clotho's forward view was severely limited.

Then it was Shani's turn, and the green-haired pilot snarled in rage as ZGMF-X09A Justice released its Fatum-00 subflight unit, slammed it into Forbidden, and reattached it to its own back in a flashing movement. "You bastard!" he screamed, his machine falling back. _"Who are you?"_

"Who am I isn't important, as far as you're concerned," Athrun said coldly. "What _is_ important is this: if you want the Freedom, you'll have to get through _me_ first."

The protective way in which Justice now hung in front of the Freedom, shield raised, rifle aimed, underscored his point; and the mere presence of the new mobile suit was enough to make both Shani and -especially- Clotho freeze, trying to figure out what was going on.

And as they did so, the one thing between them and extreme pain steadily eroded...

Taking advantage of the momentary calm, Justice rotated in the air to face Freedom. "This is ZAFT Special Forces agent Athrun Zala," the red machine's pilot announced. "Do you read me, Freedom? That is... Kira Yamato."

Beginning to recover from the initial shock, Kira's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Athrun?" he demanded. "Has ZAFT decided to stick its nose into _this_ battle... or are you here to try again to 'avenge' Nicol's death?"

Athrun smiled slightly. "Like you, I happen to know that Nicol's still alive," he said easily. "And as a matter of fact, I haven't received any specific military orders regarding this situation. As far as I know, the homeland is, in fact, totally unaware of it. My intervention is my decision alone."

Preybird boosted up to their altitude and hovered, Gerbera Straight in hand. "I'd ask you to prove that," Ken said coldly, "but I don't think we have time. Whether you're still working for your father or not, we have more important things to worry about right now; and if nothing else, I can always kill you later."

"That," Athrun said dryly, "I never doubted."

"We don't have time for this," Kira pointed out, drawing a beam saber. "Let's get them!"

Athrun smiled. _That's more like it, Kira._ "Yeah," he agreed. "Let's go."

"At least we're in agreement about one thing," Ken murmured. _Though once this crisis is past, you'd better believe I'll be keeping a close eye on you, until I know whether or not you're still your father's lap dog. But for now..._ He reached for a control, and Preybird vanished under Mirage Colloid.

Athrun blinked at that, but presumed the more experienced pilot knew what he was doing. _They don't call him the Grimaldi Falcon for nothing; of course, there's always the possibility that he's just lost his mind or something... Ha. Not likely._

While the trio had been talking, Calamity had leapt back onto Raider's back; partly to get a piece of the action, partly to compensate for Raider's lost forward vision. Now the tandem machines, along with Forbidden, where back on the offensive, forcing Freedom and Justice to scatter in the face of heavy energy fire.

"Take this!" Orga snarled, firing his back-mounted Schlag beam cannons.

The emerald beams splattered against Justice's shield, and Athrun's eyes narrowed. "Just retreat, why don't you," he advised; and, in a sweeping motion, drew one beam saber... and connected it to the base of the other, forming a beam staff. He then cleaved downwards, trying to cut Calamity and Raider in half with a single blow.

"Nice try," Clotho sneered, dodging back, and opening up with his remaining shoulder-mounted machine gun. "But you're gonna be a fatality, too!"

"You've played too many video games, Alliance dog," Ken informed him, appearing out of nowhere behind the two machines. "But if that's what you understand... then understand _this."_ The huge katana came down like the a bolt of lightning, destroying one of Raider's engines in an explosion of parts, debris, and shrapnel. "You're terminated."

Clotho's machine fell back, taking Calamity with it, as it struggled to stay in the air. "What's going on, you idiot?" Orga demanded. "I can't get a shot with all this shaking!"

"Like it's _my_ fault?" Clotho shot back. "I can't see, I can barely keep this thing in the air, and you're complaining 'cause you can't get a shot? Get over it!"

Orga snarled wordlessly, but there was nothing more to be done. Without full engine power, Raider was hard-pressed to support Calamity's weight... and without Raider's support, Calamity couldn't hope to get within reach of these three nuisances.

Which meant that both machines were essentially out of the fighting until Raider could be repaired.

Forbidden, on the other hand, was still capable of creating quite a ruckus all by itself, and this Shani proceeded to do. "C'mon, you losers," he whispered. "Try and hit _me, _why don't you?" He fired his plasma cannon and railguns simultaneously, hoping to take out the Freedom.

Kira, however, was having none of that. _I won't let you,_ he thought, feeling oddly detached. _I can't afford to be defeated here._ His shield came up, intercepting the plasma beam, while he let the railgun shots harmlessly impact on his Phase-shift. "You won't get me this time. Ken!" he called. "Give me a hand!"

Preybird angled toward the Earth Forces machine from behind. "Right here, amigo," he acknowledged. "Let's take this-"

He was interrupted by a scream of pain from Raider, followed very closely by similar sounds from Calamity and Forbidden, as the drug that allowed the three pilots to fight on nearly-equal terms with Coordinators ran out.

The pilots of Freedom, Justice, and Preybird watched in bemusement as the three enemy machines suddenly turned tail and ran, while their pilots screamed incoherently.

"What in the world...?" Ken whispered. "What was _that_ all about?"

* * *

_Powell,_ Bridge

* * *

"Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider are returning, sir!" 

Azrael and Hamilton both looked up in surprise at the report. "What?" the admiral demanded. "WHY? They can't be out of power yet!"

The petty officer who'd made the report shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, sir; but we can't get anything coherent from the pilots."

Azrael grimaced. _They're useless,_ he thought irritably. _The gamma glipheptin should make them _more _than a match for anything Orb has, and yet they let _this _happen to them! Idiots!_

He sighed; getting frustrated wouldn't change the facts... and there was another variable to consider, as well. Those unknown machines... especially the one that had so effortlessly taken Lieutenant Cateau's Cobra apart. "All right, Admiral," he said at last. "Recall all your forces, for now; we won't get much farther with just the Strike Daggers. I think it's time for a temporary withdrawal, don't you?"

Hamilton nodded reluctantly. "Unfortunately, yes. So, do we suspend combat operations till dawn?"

Azrael nodded. "Yes. And, Admiral... I think it's time we thought of some way to counter that red-and-gray machine's power, don't you?"

The admiral's eyes widened a fraction. "You don't mean...?"

Blue Cosmos' leader smiled. "That's right, Admiral. I can think of one weapon that will stop even that thing, despite its light-wave barrier." He paused. "After all, nuclear warheads _do_ have a rather large blast radius, don't they?"

* * *

Sky Above Onogoro Island

* * *

Kira, Athrun, and Ken watched in puzzlement as the remaining Earth Alliance units simply turned around and left... but those forces were not the primary concern at this moment for any of them. 

"Thanks for assistance," Kira said slowly, looking at the Justice. "But there's one question you haven't answered." His eyes narrowed. "Just what exactly are you doing here, Athrun?"

To his surprise, the cockpit hatch on the Justice slid open, and Athrun's seat rose into view. "I'm under orders from the homeland," he replied. "Specifically, to hunt down and capture that machine you're in, the Freedom. Failing that, I'm to destroy it... along with anyone you may have come into contact with."

Ken's Gerbera Straight lifted slightly. "I wouldn't recommend trying that, Athrun," he said softly.

The red machine's pilot smiled thinly. "Don't worry, Commander; I don't have a death wish. My orders never anticipated that Freedom might make it all the way to Orb -with its own formidable military forces- or that you might link up with Commander DiFalco's Preybird. Of course, the fact that my father has no idea Preybird even exists might've had something to do with that, but still..."

Kira cleared his throat. "So, what _are_ you planning to do?" he asked warily.

"Talk," Athrun said simply. "All I want to do is talk, Kira. A few people have given me reason to question my loyalties... people like Sparky Cooper... and Lacus." He paused. "There are things I have to know, Kira. I have to know what you're fighting for... and, more importantly, I have to know what _I'm_ fighting for."

_Can I... can I really trust him?_ Kira wondered. _After all that's passed between us, can I truly trust him now?_ He thought about asking Ken's opinion... but then he realized that doing so would be pointless. _He'd just tell me that it's a judgment only I can make... and he'd be right. So... what _is _my judgment?_ He looked again at Athrun, who waited patiently for his response. _The last time we met, we tried to kill each other... but so much has changed since then. He's learned that his reason for killing me didn't truly exist... so I guess I have to give him the benefit of the doubt._

Decision made, he raised his head. "All right, Athrun... Let's talk."

* * *

Onogoro Island (Late Afternoon)

* * *

Every single one of Onogoro's defenders was exhausted. From the surviving Astray pilots, to the elite core of the _Archangel_'s machines, everyone needed a break. Even the crew of the _Archangel_ herself, who had spent their time mostly providing air defense and taking potshots at the enemy fleet, needed sleep. 

The only question was whether or not they'd have a chance to get any.

Juri, Asagi, and Mayura were sprawled in front of their machines, barely conscious; this had been their first battle, and it had taken its toll. Now, exhausted, Mayura dumped the entire contents of a canteen over her head while her companions dozed on the ground.

Dearka stood on Buster's open hatch, breathing heavily. _Two months ago, I was trying to kill these people... yet here I am, fighting alongside them. I guess... I really _have _found a place where I belong, a path to truly follow... and believe in._ Sighing tiredly, he grasped his zip line, and made his way down to the ground.

Nearby, Mu had just descended himself, and now he dropped to the ground, almost collapsing. "Wow," he breathed. "What a day..."

"Yeah," Sophia agreed, unceremoniously plunking down next to him. "Haven't been this tired since the Battle of Suez, when Andy Waltfeld got the name Desert Tiger. And that was against _Coordinators;_ never thought I'd be in _this_ kind of battle."

"You know what, Kestrel," he said wearily, "neither did I."

Duel had touched down not far from Buster, and now Yzak lowered himself to the ground. _What am I really doing here?_ he wondered, looking out over the assembled forces. _Once I swore to take vengeance on the Strike pilot for giving me this scar, but now I'm fighting _with _him... but why? What is it about these people... that binds us all together this way?_ He snorted to himself. _Ahh, I just can't let them show me up, that's all._

Strike Rouge had returned from dropping off the prisoner in time to help mop up the remaining Strike Daggers (those that hadn't inexplicably retreated, at any rate), and now Cagalli walked away from her grounded machine, glancing around at her country's warriors.

"Good work, everyone," she called, as clearly as she could through her own weariness. "I don't know exactly why they retreated, but..."

Cagalli trailed off then, seeing the last three machines touch down; first Freedom, then Justice, and finally Preybird. It was evident that Ken had waited out of caution, but the fact that he'd landed at all indicated that he saw no immediate threat. So who...?

Then she saw the figure who descended from the red machine's hatch, and she broke into a run. _Athrun...? What is _he _doing here?_

* * *

Ken watched Kira and Athrun descend to the ground, even as his own zip line reeled out. _Maybe now we'll get some answers,_ he thought... but his eye was narrow, and his free hand rested on the hilt of his katana. _But if Athrun tries anything..._

Not that he'd be likely to, even if he _did_ still harbor ill feelings toward Kira, for his appearance had attracted something of a crowd. Every pilot who could get to his feet, a number of Orb soldiers, and even Murrue and several other members of the _Archangel_'s crew had come out from the ship. None of them knew who the new pilot was -though Mu had begun to suspect _he_ did- but they all wanted to know what was going on.

Athrun, for his part, was watching Kira with interest. Even as they began to walk toward each other, he took in the flightsuit his old friend wore. _That's a ZAFT suit... but not standard ZAFT insignia. So it's true; Kira _has _thrown in his lot with DiFalco's people. Which means... that he's not with the Earth Forces anymore. Of course,_ he thought with an mental snort, _that was obvious from the way he was fighting out there._

Kira moved with resolute steps, approaching the friend whom he had tried to kill, when last they met... who had killed Tolle Koenig, when the young man had tried to intervene. _So, Athrun... you're back. But... what will you do now? Will you still follow your father, even if you can't carry out these orders?_

He overheard Ledonir Kisaka saying something about recognizing Athrun, and he raised a hand; he knew the reaction those words would produce. "He's not an enemy," Freedom's pilot told the soldiers, who had raised their weapons. "Hold your fire."

Oblivious to Ken DiFalco, who now held a naked blade in his hand, the two pilots in nearly identical uniforms came to within several paces of each other, and stopped. They looked at each other for a long moment, a silent tableau, as though measuring one another...

Then Kira Yamato smiled. "Hi, Athrun. It's... it's good to see you again."

* * *

Author's note: The first attack by the Earth Alliance on Orb has been driven back; and a prisoner has been taken. How will Ken DiFalco react when he learns what lies in her past? 

Meanwhile, Athrun Zala and Kira Yamato have met again... and off the battlefield, for the first time in three years. Where will Fate lead these two young souls, now that they have been reunited?

I'm actually not sure if this update is late or not, this time; if it is, I apologize, but I say this in explanation (if not exactly excuse): there was a certain amount of difficulty involved in writing this battle, given the number of mobile suits involved and the sheer power of the Preybird. For the next battle, however, I've got things pretty much figured out... and this story is about to depart from canon, big time. Till then, though, let me know what you thought of this chapter. -Solid Shark


	33. Chapter 33: Red Sky At Morning

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Onogoro Island, June 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

Ken "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco watched through narrowed eyes -uncovered right, concealed, silver-laced left- as Kira Yamato and Athrun Zala approached each other. Since returning to the war, he'd faced Athrun exactly twice; once on a deserted island in the Indian Ocean, where they had fought... and once on an Orb transport aircraft, when both of them thought Kira dead. 

Neither time had been particularly enjoyable for either one, and both incidents had left Ken wary of the ZAFT pilot... which explained the drawn katana he held in one hand. _If you try anything now, Athrun Zala, I will cut you in half. But then, you realize that, don't you? Of course you do... and that's why you're not in the least bit worried about it._

In his own experience, only a man with nothing to fear would so blithely ignore the presence of the Grimaldi Falcon's drawn blade; too many people had fallen to it on the battlefield for it to be otherwise. And Athrun Zala was very well aware that his lineage, the fact that he was Patrick Zala's son, made the Falcon even more suspicious than usual. He knew that Ken fought against everything his father stood for... and that it was probable (though Ken himself seemed unaware of it) that in the end, there could be only one. Either True ZAFT would be crushed by Patrick's military might, and the Grimaldi Falcon with it... or True ZAFT would succeed in overthrowing the current regime, which would very likely result in the death of Patrick Zala.

Now Athrun and Kira faced each other, and Kira, at least, had made his opinion clear. His smile, and the way he'd greeted his friend, showed that he believed their conflict to be over. That their fierce, fateful battle in the Marshall Islands had purged their vendetta from them, and now they could once again meet as friends, not enemies.

Athrun himself was frozen into virtual immobility, barely breathing, as he wondered how to react. This was a moment he'd known was coming from the moment he set off from Reverend Malchio's orphanage, but now that it was here... he didn't know what to say.

Then a call like an electronic bird caught his attention. "Birdy!" cried a green-feathered, robotic bird, and down it swept, circling its creator before touching down on Kira's shoulder. "Birdy."

That finally broke Athrun's immobility, and he started to raise a hand. "Kira..."

At the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch, Cagalli suddenly ran forward. "Oh, you guys!" she cried, throwing her arms around their necks; there were unshed tears in her eyes (mostly for Kira, since she knew how much anguish her fiend had gone through, fighting his own best friend, but partly for Athrun, as well; despite the circumstances of their earlier meetings, she'd actually kind of liked the ZAFT pilot).

"Uh, Cagalli?" Kira managed, exchanging a bemused look with Athrun... who was inwardly rather amused.

_Well, well,_ the ZAFT pilot thought to himself with an inner smile; he could see how Cagalli was looking at the brown-haired Coordinator. _So you've got yourself a girlfriend these days, huh, Kira? Should've known she'd be your type..._

The three of them looked up, though, when Ken approached them. His blade as held at his side, tip pointed at the ground, but their was curious intensity in his eye. "Ken...?" Cagalli said quietly. "What are you...?"

Athrun slowly shook his head. "I think the Commander has something to say to me," he said, equally quietly. "Something that _needs_ to be said... right, Commander?"

Ken nodded soberly. "I'm afraid so, Athrun Zala." His face was serious; not the mask-like expression of old, but very solemn nonetheless. "You're aware of what I've been trying to accomplish," he went on. "You know my fundamental disagreement with your father's policies. So I have to ask you: are you truly here on your own behalf, having severed your ties with the current ZAFT... or are you here following Patrick's instructions?"

The casual way the katana was held didn't fool Athrun, but he met the ace's gaze levelly regardless. "My father would probably be very angry with me, if he knew I was here," he said softly. "As I said, my orders were to either retrieve or destroy the Freedom; the fact that I saved it, regardless of the fact that it was the Earth Forces attacking, would be damning evidence in his mind of treason." He hesitated. "From what he said, when last we met... I think you were right, back on that island." The admission obviously came to him only with difficulty, but he said it without flinching. "It's obvious now that he wants more than mere victory... and that's not what I joined ZAFT for, Commander. I'll admit here and now that I joined in a search for vengeance, over the Bloody Valentine... but genocide wasn't what I had in mind."

The ace studied him carefully, looking into his eyes... and finally nodded, sheathing his blade. "I believe you," he said simply.

"Good," Kira informed him unexpectedly. "Because I wouldn't have been very happy if you didn't." To Ken's surprise, he reached into his flightsuit... and withdrew a familiar-looking machine pistol. "I don't like these things much more than you do, but..."

Cagalli laughed at Ken's startled expression; she, too, recognized the weapon as the one the ace usually carried, and the expression on his face as he checked his -empty- holster amused her greatly. "See, partner?" she said smugly. "You're not the only sneaky guy around."

Ken looked at his protégé in consternation. "Just how did you manage _that_ trick, amigo?" he demanded.

Kira shrugged. "Not my fault if you hate the thing so much you don't bother to check your holster before you put it on."

Athrun shook his head, bemused but gratified by his friend's ability to go from solemn to amused in such a short span of time. _Of course, he should know as well as I do that depriving the Grimaldi Falcon of his gun doesn't make him any less dangerous; it just means he'll have to take an extra second or two to get close enough to chop off your head, instead..._

Cagalli's voice broke into his thoughts. "We should get inside," she pointed out. "We can talk there... and get some rest, too."

"Agreed," Ken said, nodding. "And besides... I have a prisoner to interrogate."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Hangar

* * *

"So how exactly did you wind up here?" Athrun asked, leaning against a crate; in his hand he held a cup of coffee, which he sipped cautiously. "The last I heard -before you stole Freedom, anyway- was that you were with the Earth Forces. So was the _Archangel,_ for that matter... and Commander DiFalco." 

Kira, sitting on a smaller crate, gazed into his own cup. "To be perfectly honest, it was a lot of things. First nearly dying, then meeting Nicol and Sparky... it all kind of resonated with the things that I'd seen, and the things Ken's told me over the last few months. It... it just came to me, while I was recovering, that fighting with the Earth Forces wasn't the way to end the war; that what I really needed to be doing was fighting against war itself, for peace."

"And Ken was never truly with the Earth Forces," Cagalli interjected. "He fooled us, too; but it turns out he'd been working toward this end from the moment he joined the _Archangel_'s crew. It was all part of his plan to bring the _Archangel_ here, when the time was right... and the 'real war', as he calls it, began."

"Alaska was the final straw," Murrue said pensively. "In all honesty, I expect we would've been willing to follow him anyway, when he told us the truth of Blue Cosmos' involvement in the war; but the use of the Cyclops system sealed it. When Headquarters tried to kill us, they made what may be their worst mistake of the entire war."

"Yeah," Mu agreed. "Those idiots drove us right into opposition with them... and just incidentally united us with the one group outside of ZAFT with the power to really do something about it."

"This 'True ZAFT' _does_ seem to have the ability to back up its goals," Athrun said slowly. "I wasn't sure of that at first, but after seeing Preybird in action... and watching a couple of the old Gray Demons cut my father's Justice Ministry people to shreds. Not to mention their intelligence into the inner workings on _both_ sides." He frowned pensively. "But I'm still wondering... what's Orb's stake in this? Why did _they_ decide to fight?"

"We didn't have much choice," Cagalli said quietly.

Kira nodded in agreement. "That's true. If they gave into the Earth Forces' demands, they'd have to fight ZAFT... and if they didn't, they'd have to fight the Earth Forces; which is exactly what's happening. So if they were going to have to fight, they were determined to at least fight for the own principles, which led to this."

"And it's why the _Archangel_ is still here," Leanne put in, walking over. "To be perfectly honest, this conflict between Orb and the Earth Forces is secondary to our primary goal; but they've helped us out, and it would just go against the grain to leave them to be swallowed up."

"Which is one reason I'm glad to see you, Athrun," Kira said quietly. "Whether you stay here or not, you helped us out today... a lot."

"Well, it was the least I could do," Athrun said uncomfortably. "After... after I killed your friend."

Watching from several meters away, Mir tensed, hearing those words. Killed a friend of Kira's... _Could that mean... that he's...?_

Kira's next words confirmed it. "I know, Athrun... and it was hard, losing Tolle. But it's war; taking vengeance for him won't bring him back, won't change anything. Conflict... is something that we may never be free from; but revenge is an endless cycle that just fuels more hate."

Mir turned away, tears in her eyes. She couldn't handle this... not so soon after Tolle's death... And then a hand came down gently on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Dearka said quietly, gently squeezing her shoulder.

"Leave me alone," she snapped at him. "I don't want to talk right now, or be around anyone-"

"Being alone is the last thing you want right now," he said firmly. "I know what it's like to lose someone close, okay? Being alone... just makes it easier to brood, to despair..."

"How would _you_ know?" she said angrily. "You don't understand-"

"Yes, I do," Dearka said insistently. "The girl Falcon lost at the Bloody Valentine wasn't just his girlfriend... she was also my sister."

That brought Mir up short. "Your... sister?" When he nodded, she blinked in confusion. "But... why tell me...?"

"I just want you to understand that you're not alone," he said softly. "I know what you're going through. If you need someone to talk to..."

To his intense surprise, she suddenly spun around, and buried her face against his shoulder, sobbing quietly.

Over at the main group, the discussion was still continuing, oblivious to the exchange. "And besides," Kira was saying, "it wasn't like you were _trying_ to kill Tolle, were you?"

"No," Athrun admitted. "He... he just got in the way, when I was trying to finish _you._ I... I barely even realized he was there, it was over so fast..." He frowned. "But... one thing I don't understand... Why didn't Commander DiFalco's machine...?"

"Raptor was falling apart around him," Murrue answered, "and Preybird hadn't even arrived yet; so there really wasn't anything he _could_ do... assuming that he'd been willing to get between two Berserkers, which, he tells me, wouldn't have been smart." She frowned. "Which reminds me: where _is_ Ken?"

Cagalli glanced around. "There he is," she said, pointing to where the wreckage of the GAT-X215 Cobra had been deposited. "I... guess he's interrogating the prisoner?"

Murrue raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and started over... only to freeze when she saw Ken stumble, his face white as a sheet.

* * *

While the other had been talking, Ken had made straight for the Cobra; something about the way the pilot had spoken had piqued his interest, and he wanted to know what was going on. 

By the time he got there, the pilot was already out of her machine, sitting on a crate, hands cuffed behind her back. "I suppose you're the pilot who shot me down," she said quietly. "I was wondering when you'd be by to interrogate me."

Ken nodded. "I had some things to take care of. So tell me, Lieutenant: who are you?"

"My name is Alicia Cateau," she answered, "lieutenant senior grade, Eurasian Federation military, on detached assignment to the Atlantic Federation's Fourth Naval Fleet. I am -or I was," she amended ruefully, glancing at the debris behind her, "pilot of GAT-X215 Cobra. It was intended largely with the destruction of your own machine in mind, as it happens."

He nodded again; that was about what he'd expected. "The machine in question is ZGMF-X00A Preybird, Lieutenant; I happen to be the commanding officer of a splinter group known as True ZAFT... which, ironically, means that the Alliance's propaganda was almost correct." He rubbed his eyepatch. "My name is Kenneth DiFalco... though you may know me better as the Grimaldi Falcon."

Cateau paled. "The Grimaldi Falcon... It might almost have been better for me if I'd been killed outright, instead of captured..."

Ken raised an eyebrow. "You know, Lieutenant, contrary to Alliance propaganda, I don't actually eat prisoners of war."

She shook her head. "You don't understand, Commander; today was not the first time you and I met in combat. The first time, I was flying a mobile armor, sixteen months and one day ago. You nearly killed me that day, and would have, had I not ejected in time. Now... I don't think I would blame you if you chose to use that sword of yours to finish the job."

The ace froze. _Sixteen months, one day... February Fourteenth, last year... the day of the Bloody Valentine... Which means she must be-!_ White-hot rage filled him for an instant, threatening to trigger the Berserker that lay within him, but his formidable self-control and his own observations succeeded in throttling the impulse to draw his blade.

"You flew the nuclear-equipped Moebius, didn't you," he stated in an almost conversational tone.

"Yes," Cateau admitted in a whisper. "And that's why... I wouldn't blame you if you killed me now. I deserve it, after what I've done."

"Hm." Ken stroked the hilt of his katana, but his expression was far from murderous. "That's fascinating, Lieutenant... yet the very fact that you claim -honestly, I think- that you deserve it makes me wonder about something." He tilted his head. "Did you, in fact, know that the warhead you carried was nuclear?"

She looked away. "No, Commander. But that does not excuse what I've done."

"Lieutenant," he said quietly, "I was quite prepared to hate you for what you've done; I lost both my home and someone very close to me when your missile detonated. But I make a policy not to blame people for things they didn't even realize they were doing; I blame the people who sent them out there, and _did_ know what was happening. So I'm _not_ going to kill you, Lieutenant... because if I did, I'd be no different than Patrick Zala, and that man represents everything I stand against."

Cateau sighed in something akin to relief. "I still think that I don't deserve understanding, Sir... but thank you." She met his gaze. "I'll answer any questions you have, to the best of my ability."

Ken raised an eyebrow again. "Why would you do that, Lieutenant?"

She snorted. "You think I was still out there on the frontlines by _choice?_ Once I realized what I'd done to Junius Seven, my first impulse was to kill myself; after that, I just wanted out. But my superiors made it very clear what would happen if I attempted that, so I had little choice. Believe me, I have no love left for the Earth Forces." She hesitated. "But... there's something you should know first."

The ace felt a ball of ice forming in his gut, indefinable dread formed by her tone. "Is this something I'm going to want to hear, Lieutenant?"

"No... but it's something you need to know regardless." Cateau took a deep breath. "As of late last month, the Earth Alliance has regained nuclear strike capability."

Ken's face went white, and he stumbled in shock as his world collapsed... and he fainted dead away.

Murrue managed to catch him before he hit the floor. "What's wrong with him?" she demanded of Cateau, gently lowering the unconscious ace to the floor. "What did you _say_ to him?"

"That the Earth Forces have nuclear capability again, I suspect," Leanne said quietly, fingering the sword sheathed at her hip. "Right?"

Cateau nodded. "Yes... but I didn't expect _this_ kind of reaction; not from the Grimaldi Falcon."

The Demon shrugged. "He has issues with nukes, Lieutenant; it's nothing personal."

Murrue gazed at the younger woman through narrowed eyes. "You knew, Leanne? You already _knew_ about all this?"

Leanne nodded solemnly. "I knew. I got a message from Sparky just yesterday, passing on the intelligence. We don't know exactly how he got it, but it seems Muruta Azrael obtained the technical data for the Neutron-jammer cancellers on May Thirtieth... and test-detonated a fusion bomb not long after."

Cagalli, trotting over, glared at her. "Why didn't you _tell_ us?" she demanded. "If the Earth Forces have nukes..."

The Demon met her gaze unflinchingly. "For one thing," she said, quite unapologetic, "I'm pretty sure your father already has an inkling of this; his evacuation plans seemed suspiciously complete, when I first heard about them. And besides..." She looked down at her comatose commander. "I was afraid the Boss would react exactly as he did. They say, you know, that there's a fine line between genius and insanity; and after everything he's been through, since beginning the GENESIS Project, he's been a little too close to that line. If nuclear weapons were used again, especially here... I don't know if his mind could take that without snapping."

"I don't know that he could," the princess said quietly. "You're right about how close to the edge he's been; I saw that back in the desert. If something like were to happen now..."

"It wouldn't break him," Murrue demurred, "but I don't think it would be very healthy for him, either. A few more incidents like that, and I don't know what might happen... but I do know that we need him." She nodded at Leanne. "I can understand why you didn't mention this, Leanne... though I'm not sure if _he_ will."

"Hey, what's all the commotion?" Yzak interrupted, walking over. "We _do_ have a war to fight, you know- Hey, what's wrong with _him?"_

"A long story, Yzak," Athrun said heavily, joining them; his grim expression was somewhat leavened with puzzlement. "But what are _you_ doing here? Last I heard, you were MIA; the going theory was that the Cyclops got you, at Alaska..."

Duel's pilot snorted. "Me, fall to a Cyclops? No way... though that _is_ why I'm here." He glared; apparently at the world in general. "By now you probably know about Commander Le Creuset's treason."

Athrun jerked. "Commander Le Creuset? Wha...?"

Behind him, Kira sighed. "It's a long story, Athrun... but you need to know. When Ken started wondering how Spit Break had been leaked, he got to thinking about who had access..."

* * *

_Powell,_ Bridge

* * *

Muruta Azrael drummed his fingers on his armrest, pondering the day's events. Things had not gone exactly as he had expected... but he had learned some very useful things nonetheless. 

_That interloper machine,_ he mused. _We were wrong; that wasn't an Orb unit after all. If it had been, that technology would've been present in their mass-produced units, too. Some of it, at least... and then there's that positron cannon it tried to use on Forbidden. No, that's a ZAFT unit... or, more likely, part of DiFalco's rumored breakaway faction._

"That red and gray machine was unexpectedly powerful," Admiral Hamilton murmured, unconsciously mirroring Azrael's thoughts. "The white one -and the red one- were dangerous in their own right, but that third machine... I guess the reports of the _Archangel_'s first visit to Orb weren't exaggerated after all."

"So it seems," Azrael agreed. "The Calamity was the only thing we had that could even keep it pinned down; and that only through sheer firepower. Even Cobra was eaten alive by that thing."

Hamilton grunted. "Yes; and no doubt Cateau, that disloyal woman, spilled her guts... assuming they captured her alive." He chuckled slightly. "Of course, even that might be doubtful; if I had to guess, that interloper was piloted by the Grimaldi Falcon, and _he_ certainly isn't the sort to forgive the Bloody Valentine."

"He's also as shrewd as they come," the Director cautioned. "I hate everything the man stands for -he _is_ a Coordinator, after all- but only a total fool underestimates his opponent. I expect that that's as true on the battlefield as it is in the business world, eh, Admiral?"

"True," the admiral conceded reluctantly. "But what are you getting at, Director?"

Azrael shifted in his chair. "Just this: the man has mobile suit engine coolant for blood, and -reputedly- sufficient self-control to avoid instantly blowing a prisoner away... even after what Cateau did. If he learns that she didn't even know what she was carrying, he'll be inclined to keep her around... and she knows a few things he'd find very useful indeed."

Hamilton looked at him suspiciously. "You don't seem particularly disturbed by that, Director; almost as if you _want_ DiFalco to interrogate her."

"I'd be delighted if he did," the Director confessed. "She knows that we have nuclear capability again... and that's something DiFalco feels so strongly about that it'll probably put him at least slightly off-balance. As far as I'm concerned, anything that does that can be considered fortuitous."

The admiral nodded slightly. "Makes sense; and we certainly need all the help we can get against _that_ monster." He frowned. "But one quandary remains: how do we _stop_ the man? As you said, even Calamity could only keep him busy; what have we got that can take him out completely?" He tilted his head. "Unless you're planning to _capture_ that machine?"

Azrael chuckled. "No, no, Admiral; I'm not _that_ ambitious. Besides, DiFalco's no dummy. Either that machine is so customized that he's the _only_ one who can make much use of it in its completed form... or else he's got it rigged to explode if it's captured. On second thought, probably both. No, I'll settle for destroying it... and I know exactly how." He smiled... a smile that any sane man would call evil. "Order a couple of our bombers to be loaded with low-yield tactical nuclear warheads; something large enough to destroy the interloper, but small enough not to take Morgenroete or the mass driver with it." His smile grew. "Tomorrow, we put an end to the monster called the Grimaldi Falcon..."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Conference Room

* * *

After Ken had recovered from his shock-induced faint, a group once again gathered to discuss the situation at hand. 

"It's unlikely the Earth Forces will resume the attack before morning," Lord Uzumi began, "so I believe we have time to consider how the paradigm has changed since our initial plans were made. That, ladies and gentlemen, is time I believe we have no choice but to use."

Murrue nodded. "I agree, My Lord. Thanks to Lieutenant Cateau," she began, nodding at the sole person in the room in Earth Forces uniform (though it was conspicuously missing its insignia), "we now have confirmation that the Earth Alliance has, through so far unknown means, obtained the plans for the Neutron-jammer canceler; and has, in fact, a number of aircraft-launched, nuclear-tipped cruise missiles, many of them stored about the Fourth Fleet's carriers."

Cateau stepped forward, clearing her throat. "Yes. In fact, due in large part to Director Azrael -he's a believer in 'if one is good, more is better'- there are approximately fifty TLAM-Fives among the Fleet's weapons. That's more than sufficient firepower to turn Orb into a radioactive glass parking lot."

Kira frowned. "'TLAM-Five?'" he repeated.

"Tomahawk Land Attack Missile, Mark Five," Ken clarified; his face had recovered much of its color, but none of its good humor. "The modern day descendant of the original, late-twentieth to early-twenty-first century Tomahawk cruise missile. They're of limited utility on the modern battlefield... except when used as nuclear delivery systems."

"Right," Cateau confirmed. "Exactly why Azrael chose to bring them along, I'm not certain; he wants Orb's facilities as intact as possible, and I doubt radioactive ash is exactly what he has in mind. I suppose he brought them for intimidation value."

Mu shook his head. "More likely a fleet-action countermeasure," he murmured, recalling the term Ken had coined in reference to GENESIS. "He probably hoped to wipe out Orb's naval forces with nuclear strikes."

"Then he's out of his mind," Yzak stated. "I don't know how much you've studied nuclear weapons, Commander -probably not a lot; that's not something the PLANTs have ever contemplated using against you- but _we've_ examined their capabilities very thoroughly. Only someone like Azrael -someone with _no_ military background- could contemplate something like that. If he had any brains, he'd realize the chance of catching his own fleet -and himself-

in the blast would preclude that use of nukes."

"Take it from me, Mister Joule," Cateau said dryly. "Muruta Azrael is not a prodigy where military matters are concerned. The idiot actually believes that his success in the business world makes him fully qualified to be an admiral... more qualified, in fact, than uniformed myrmidons like us." She shook her head. "The man has an ego the size of this island chain; and while he's undeniably a genius in his own realm, he's little better than an incompetent where battlefields are concerned."

""That's good news," Dearka remarked.

Ken shook his head. "One would think so... except that he has two advantages. One: for all his -many- faults, the man _does_ know mobile suits; if anyone can find a weakness in Preybird, well... I wouldn't bet against him. And two: according to Lieutenant Cateau, the uniformed commander of the Fourth Fleet is Admiral James Hamilton. I've never met him, but Lewis spoke of him; he's part of the same 'inner circle' as William Sutherland, Castor Truman, and Charles Kreitzman."

Cagalli looked at him sharply. "Did you say Kreitzman? Wasn't that the name of that captain; the one you and Huckebein were talking about...?"

He nodded. "Yes; Charles is Kyle Kreitzman's father. As I heard the tale, his wife made Kyle into a Coordinator without his knowledge... and Charles wasn't in the least amused." He grimaced. "She died early last year... in the Copernicus bombing."

Athrun winced. "Coincidence?"

"Hopefully." The ace's expression, however, showed that he thought Kreitzman _was_ callous enough to have... arranged... the incident. "At any rate," Ken went on, "there's more of a threat to us that just James Hamilton, or even the nuclear weapons. When discussing the matter with Lieutenant Cateau, I learned the truth behind the unusual capabilities of those three Alliance pilots."

Cateau nodded. "The story begins some time ago, actually," she began. "It seems that, at one point -exactly when is uncertain; I've only heard rumors- the Earth Forces had a small group of soldiers known as 'Combat Coordinators'; as near as I've been able to determine, they were Coordinators operating under the influence of brainwashing, for the purpose of helping the Alliance develop mobile suits of their own. In fact, they were supposed to be an offensive unit, to be deployed until a true Natural-adapted operating system had been developed. In any case, the project was a failure; the brainwashing didn't quite take, which left the Alliance with several very angry Coordinators on their hands, several of whom were able to escape completely."

Natarle raised an eyebrow, interested. "And how, exactly, does this affect our current situation, Lieutenant? Are you saying that we're dealing with Coordinators?"

The lieutenant shook her head. "No, Ma'am; what they are is the Alliance's solution to the problem of competing with Coordinator pilots. You see, with rare exceptions, a Natural isn't a match for a Coordinator one-on-one; not in a mobile suit, at any rate. Not even one with the new OS. Oh, they work well enough in massed attack, particularly when you consider the Strike Dagger's use of energy weapons. But the Alliance needed a better solution, for dealing with machines such as the captured G-weapons. The result of their efforts is the 'biological central processing unit'; a Natural implanted with various computer devices, to enhance mental processes and autonomic reflexes... and given regular doses of a drug known as 'Gamma Glipheptin'."

Mu frowned. "That doesn't sound good... But what exactly is Gamma Glipheptin?"

Ken's face took on an expression of distaste. "It's a drug that does essentially the same thing as the implants, only more so; and it also serves as a deterrent against desertion. The human body becomes addicted to the stuff very easily... and as soon as it wears off, very painful withdrawal symptoms kick in. That's what caused them to retreat today: their precious drug wore off."

Kira felt physically ill. "That's the sickest thing I ever heard..."

"Don't waste too much sympathy on _them,_ Kira Yamato," Cateau advised coldly. "I know those pilots; Orga Sabnak, Shani Andras, and Clotho Buer. I haven't been able to find out much about their backgrounds -when their status was officially changed from 'human' to 'biological CPU', their records were erased- but I did learn this much: all three of them were death row inmates prior to being given this chance at redemption. They're murderers, Mister Yamato, and if you happen to shoot them dead, I will be a very happy woman." She shuddered. "They practically radiate evil; it's as if they exhale malevolence instead of carbon dioxide..."

Uzumi cleared his throat. "Now you all see our difficulty. The Earth Alliance has arrayed its strongest cards against us, including nuclear weapons; something against which even Orb has no defense. For the time being, they will hesitate to use them, since they want Morgenroete and the mass driver... but the fact remains that their military power is overwhelming." He looked at Ken. "I'm afraid, Commander, that even your Preybird is insufficient against this threat."

The ace nodded unhappily. "I know. It was never designed with nuclear defense in mind; and even it can be swarmed. Especially since the light-wave barrier is... unreliable right now."

Murrue looked at him sharply. "What?"

"Calamity gave me a beating today," he explained. "Nothing it has can _penetrate_ a light-wave barrier... but the pounding it received _did_ stress the generator itself. I wouldn't trust it, under the circumstances... and I'm afraid that Preybird's design relies a little too much on that for defense. Without it, I have no shield at all, which means my only recourse against beam-equipped opponents is to dodge. Which, given my preference for close combat, puts me at something of a disadvantage."

Yzak quietly cursed. "Man," he muttered, "the Grimaldi Falcon finally runs into a situation where he _doesn't_ have all the answers... and it has to be _after_ we end up on the same side. There's no justice in the universe."

Sophia closed her eyes. _I never thought it would come to this,_ she thought, almost despairingly. _Just a few weeks ago, I was still with the Earth Forces; I had no need to question my path. I was secure in the knowledge that, if I fell, there were plenty more to take my place. Now we're cast adrift, with none to follow us... so what do we _do?

"What do we do?" Murrue asked, unconsciously echoing her friend's thoughts. "What _can_ we do, against those forces? Forgive me, Lord Uzumi, but from what you're saying, it sounds as if all we can do is fight to the end... put up the best defense we can before we're all killed."

The Orb leader sighed heavily. "Perhaps it does sound that way," he said quietly. "And to be perfectly honest... Orb has already lost. It's only a matter of time now."

Cagalli looked at him in horror. "What... what are you saying, Father?" she whispered, stricken.

He looked at her. "You were out there today," Uzumi said gently. "You saw the opposition; were it not for the weaknesses of the biological CPUs, the battle would've gone much worse... and that was before we knew they had brought nuclear weapons with them." He sighed again. "Against this, Orb cannot hold out for long. It is only a matter of time before they take possession of both Onogoro and Kaguya... and when that happens, everything we've striven for will be lost."

Ken clenched a fist, face twisted in pain. "How could it come to this?" he whispered. "Those... bastards... How can they _do_ this? Even they have to know that if they use nuclear weapons again, they'll lose any possible claim to the moral high ground. After the Bloody Valentine..."

Murrue reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "I don't think they care about that anymore, Ken," she said gently. "Orb is the last remaining holdout from the Alliance; there isn't anyone _left_ to worry about the 'moral high ground'."

Kira swallowed. "So what now, Sir?" he asked quietly. "What can we do now, if they're ready to just wipe us out?"

Uzumi directed his gaze at the tense ace. "Commander," he began, "I believe the time has come for 'Phoenix Rising'."

Ken nodded reluctantly. "Yes," he said, almost in a whispered. "Yes, I'm afraid you're right." He visibly gathered himself; and, little by little, the confident strategist and tactician once again replaced the battered, pained young man. "I take it, then, that _Kusanagi_ is ready?"

The politician nodded back. "Yes; launch preparations have already begun. By noon tomorrow, she'll be ready to launch... and Kaguya's self-destruct charges are ready."

Murrue glanced from pilot to politician in confusion. "Wait, wait; what are you two talking about? 'Phoenix Rising'? Self-destruct charges? You sound like you're preparing for an evacuation."

Ken turned to her. "We are," he said bluntly. "Phoenix Rising is a contingency plan we set up several months ago, though we never expected to need it; the _Izumo_-class mobile suit transport _Kusanagi_ is an integral part of it. She'll be carrying as many M1s as we can cram aboard her, along with various spares. If all goes well, the _Archangel_ will also carry two or three, depending on available hangar space."

Uzumi nodded. "Yes; and we've already evacuated Orb's population into space. It was something of a tight fit, but we've transferred them to Ame-no-Mihashira, the orbit elevator. Sahaku wasn't exactly pleased -Commander DiFalco's analysis of the situation is that he and his sister hoped to make some kind of deal with the Alliance- but even he wouldn't want to see our people killed by nuclear weapons."

"_Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ will also be rendezvousing with the station," Ken continued, "and will remain there long enough to repair any damage inflicted on the ships or mobile suits during the evacuation... and until _Arkbird, Asmodeus,_ and _Eternal_ can make rendezvous with us."

Murrue nodded thoughtfully, but Mu raised a hand. "Wait a second; how exactly is the _Archangel_ going to get up there in the first place? I know the _Kusanagi_ can use the mass driver... but the _Archangel_ isn't set up for that kind of launch."

Cagalli swallowed. "The _Archangel_-class is based on the _Izumos,_" she explained, through her own inner tumult. "They have a lot of interchangeable parts... including plasma boosters, which are intended to launch an _Izumo_ into orbit without a mass driver."

Ken nodded. "Combine that with positronic interference from the _Archangel_'s Lohengrin, and nothing will be able to touch her before she reaches orbit."

Murrue sighed. "So that's it, then? We're to abandon Orb?"

"There is little choice," Uzumi said quietly. "Whatever happens here, your mission _must_ continue, Captain. Orb is lost either way... and its sacrifice will be in vain if you fail to stop GENESIS. Do not think of this as abandoning us... but rather continuing our work." He hesitated. "And at least this way, the line of Orb will be safe... whatever happens to me."

Kira's eyes widened in shocked comprehension... and Cagalli Yula Athha stared at her father in horror.

* * *

PLANTs, Martius Three, True ZAFT Base, June 16th, C.E. 71

* * *

It was just after midnight; an unusual time for even the leaders of True ZAFT to meet. Normally, they slept when they could, to make sure they were ready for whatever might happen. 

Tonight was different.

Once again, they were gathered around the battered conference table, waiting tensely for Tom Delaney to announce the latest news. "So what's the urgent matter you need to discuss?" Siegel Clyne began. "I'm assuming it isn't good news."

Tom's face was very grim. "No," he confirmed. "It isn't." He took a deep breath. "A message just came in from the Boss. He reports that a POW -or defector, I'm not too clear on that- has revealed that the Fourth Naval Fleet has brought approximately fifty nuclear-tipped TLAM-Fives along with them. That's enough firepower to turn Orb into a radioactive glass parking lot," he added unnecessarily.

Sparky winced. "They're not fooling around, are they? They want Kaguya, and they're going to get it no matter what."

Nicol shook his head. "How can they bring themselves to _do_ these kinds of things?"

"I'm afraid," Tom said heavily, "that 'why' is the least of our worries. The Boss, you see, estimates that Orb _cannot_ hold out for more than another forty-eight hours... and according to his message, they're not even going to try."

Clyne straightened in his chair. "What do you mean, they're not going to try?"

"I mean," the engineer said bluntly, "that at noon tomorrow, they're going to fight a rearguard action, giving Orb time to blow up Morgenroete, launch _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi..._ and destroy the mass driver behind them. Operation Phoenix Rising commences tomorrow."

Sparky closed his eyes. "So it's come to this, has it?" he murmured. "So they'll be rendezvousing at Ame-no-Mihashira, as planned?"

Tom nodded. "That's right. From there, they'll be able to defend themselves against anything the Earth Forces can currently throw at them; and I doubt ZAFT would be interested in attacking the station at this point."

The big commander hauled himself out of his chair. "Then I guess it's time," he said quietly; he looked over at Clyne, and got a silent nod in return. "Nicol, turn on that intercom, will you?"

Nicol nodded, and tapped the appropriate keys. "You're on, Sparky."

Sparky cleared his throat. "Now here this," he said clearly, "now here this. All personnel, Operation Falling Angel begins in seventy-two hours; begin final launch preparations for _Arkbird, Asmodeus,_ and _Eternal_. In three days, we are abandoning this base, and rejoining the Commander. Get to work, people."

He closed down the intercom, and so didn't hear the sudden buzz of conversation throughout the base... but the sudden activity visible in the harbor outside said it just as well as any words.

"Good thing we got those ships ready ahead of schedule," Nicol remarked. "I never expected to have to start Falling Angel this soon."

"None of us did," Clyne told him. "But Commander DiFalco, I expect, _did_ have some inkling of it; I notice his messages haven't been overly optimistic of late." He frowned. "Speaking of getting things done on schedule, what about those two machines?"

Tom smiled tiredly. "That's another bright spot," he answered. "Raiden was completed two days ago; and Hyperion's been ready for over a month. Sudden though this may be, we're as ready as we'll ever be."

"Though there's still the matter of getting the _Eternal_ out," Sparky interjected. "Her crew may be almost entirely our people, but unlike _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus,_ she's in a regular ZAFT harbor. Springing her _won't_ be as easy as the rest of this."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Clyne said slowly. "The last time I spoke with Captain Waltfeld, he sounded confident about the matter. And since he's the only man in ZAFT who equals Commander DiFalco's tactical and strategic brilliance..."

Tom laughed. "Yeah, got a point; if the Desert Tiger sounds confident, I'm not about to bet against him." He chuckled for a few moments, then frowned. "Speaking of ships," he said slowly, "there've been rumors lately about another rogue ship out there. Some say it's somehow connected to the Heliopolis G-weapon project; some kind of escort ship or something. Apparently, it's been on the loose ever since the collapse, doing who knows what."

Sparky waved a hand. "Come on, Tom, there've been rumors about that ship for months."

"There's a little more substance to these," the engineer told him. "Such as documented proof that a ZAFT task force got ambushed last week out at L4. Whatever it was, it had positron weaponry; one of our satellites registered gamma radiation consistent with a Lohengrin blast. We've also got fragmentary reports of Earth Alliance mobile suit types wreaking havoc on isolated shipping... including some belonging to the Alliance."

Nicol looked up, interested. "You think we may have an ally out there somewhere?"

Tom shrugged. "Well, you know what they say: enemy of my enemy is my friend; and whether it's the rumored escort ship or not, _somebody_ is sure blowing the guts out of those convoys, and it ain't pirates. Also..." He paused. "There are reports that several Alliance aces disappeared recently... including Morgan Chevalier and Jane Houston."

Sparky blinked. "The Moonlight Mad Dog and the White Whale? What's going on here, anyway?"

"Something beyond even our own efforts, I guess," Clyne murmured. "But however interesting it may be, it doesn't have any real bearing on our current situation."

"No," the larger man agreed. "I suppose it doesn't... but it's still something to think about."

* * *

_Archangel_, Hangar

* * *

It was early in the morning when Kira found Cagalli, working in the Strike Rouge's cockpit. He knew he should be sleeping -he didn't need Ken to tell him going into battle with a fatigue-dulled mind wasn't smart- but he couldn't. There was so much going on... and he was worried about Cagalli. 

She looked at him in surprise when he poked his head into the cockpit. "Kira? What are you doing here, at this hour? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied. "You need rest, too, you know; especially since you've only been in one real battle while flying a mobile suit. Going into battle while you're tired won't do you any good; I should know, after all this time."

Cagalli pushed aside the machine's keyboard. "First of all," she said tiredly, "I'm not going into battle this time; this is a job for the three of you, not me. Freedom, Justice, and Preybird are the only ones with the speed for it." She sighed. "And besides... I can't sleep."

Kira nodded in understanding. "Worried about your father?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "We've had our problems, but still... he _is_ my father. And now... now I'm worried that he... he might... decide to stay behind." She swallowed. "He has to know that if he does, it'll be suicide, but... he sees everything that happens in Orb as his responsibility."

He felt a tightness in his own stomach. "He wouldn't really...?"

She lowered her gaze. "He might. That's just the sort of thing he'd do..."

Kira sighed inwardly, and climbed into the cockpit. "Look, Cagalli," he said quietly, "no matter what happens, you won't be alone. We'll be here for you; Ken, Athrun, even Murrue and Mu... and _I'll_ be here for you. I promise." He hesitated. "I'll protect you, okay?"

Cagalli glared at him for an instant, and almost snapped at him for daring to suggest she might need protection... but then she closed her mouth. _He means it,_ she realized. _He really means it. He's as much of a romantic as Ken... and I think I like that._

"Thanks, Kira," she said instead. "That... means a lot to me." She paused. "But... that means you may have to fight, you know. Even... kill, if it comes to it."

Kira thought about that for several, silent moments. _She's right... but does that even matter? I've killed before, and sometimes there isn't any choice..._

A new voice cut in, speaking in a familiar -and, in its own way, comforting- tone. "Kira, someday you will realize that there is no shame in using force to protect those you love. Spare the lives of your enemies if you wish... but understand that you do no wrong by using force to protect your loved ones from harm."

They both turned to look at Ken, who stood outside the hatch, wearing the mask-like expression of old... and using the tone of the lecturing warrior, the mentor he'd been to Kira from the start. "Ken...?" Cagalli began.

The ace spoke not to her, but once again to Kira. "Even you will admit -or so I judge by your recent actions- that sometimes violence is the only answer. I know you disagree with my plans... but I respect that. Choose your own way of fighting, Kira... and protect your loved ones as you see fit." From behind his back, he lifted his old wakizashi; a weapon Kira hadn't seen since Ken retrieved his katana from the Debris Belt, months before. "This is my last advice for you, Kira: believe only what your heart and conscience tell you... and don't let anyone _dare_ tell you you've made the wrong decision." He set the sheathed blade on the open hatch. "And if anyone tries, let them taste cold steel."

Then, predictably, he was gone.

Kira turned back to Cagalli, and -remembering that Kisaka had been transferred from bodyguard duties to being the _Kusanagi_'s captain- took a deep breath. "Cagalli, I... heard that you need a new bodyguard, now that Kisaka's been transferred. Would I...?"

She blinked, surprised by the offer. "Kira...? I... uh..." Mentally floundering for a moment, she finally smiled. "Yes, thank you, Kira."

Then, to Kira's surprise, she hugged him... and he thought back to Flay's teasing, when they met again after Alaska. _Maybe... she was right,_ he thought. _I... I think I'm glad she was, too..._

* * *

Onogoro, Hangar

* * *

Minutes later, Ken stood before Preybird -which was parked here, instead of the _Archangel_'s hangar, to facilitate launching for the rearguard action- and, as might be expected, he was brooding. 

_Nukes... Those rotten bastards really _have _done it again... and as soon as Morgenroete and the mass driver are gone, they'll probably do it here, too. Everything I've fought for, in danger because some bastard -probably Rau, may he soon rot for eternity- decided to give the Alliance the specs for the N-jammer canceler. That means this cold war just got hot again... and it's all my fault. This... and GENESIS._

There was a sigh behind him. "Let me guess," Dearka said wearily. "You're brooding again, right? Over-indulging in self-pity isn't exactly very healthy, you know; not in the long run."

"Quiet, Dearka," the ace said without rancor. "I don't feel like talking right now, okay? Now isn't a good time. In fact, it's a pretty _bad_ time."

Buster's pilot snorted. "So what are you gonna do? Cut me in half? I know you better than that, Falcon." He sighed again. "Right now, you're thinking that the entire world is about to explode, and it's all your fault, right? Well, I've got news for you: Azrael using fifty nuclear missiles on Orb is _not_ your fault."

"Oh, really?" Ken shot back. "That's not the way _I_ heard it. From what Lieutenant Cateau's said, Azrael chose to bring nukes along mostly because he _expected_ to run into Preybird here... and wanted to make sure he could vaporize me in an instant." He cursed himself quietly. "I decided to try to dominate the battlefield by creating a machine that nothing could beat... and so escalated the war. I created something no Earth Forces machine could beat all by itself, so that maniac decided to use nukes..."

"Which he'd probably be using on the PLANTs right now if you hadn't provided a distraction," Dearka argued. "Right?"

"Wrong; Azrael isn't stupid. Even he knows trying to launch an all-out offensive against the PLANTs right now would be suicide." The ace didn't even look up as he enumerated his reasoning. "One: he has no mass driver, which would make sending nukes up there a cumbersome process at best, with no way to send up more than two or three at a time. It would take at least a couple of months at that rate, probably more, to get a worthwhile number of up there. Two: ZAFT still has three major bases on Earth, any one of which would be happy to blow him away if he tried something that ambitious. And three: ZAFT's space forces weren't hammered anywhere near as much as ground forces by Spit Break's failure, which means attacking the PLANTs themselves -even with nukes- is a wonderful way to get blown into itty bitty pieces."

The blonde pilot recoiled slightly at the rancor in his friend's voice. "You're serious..."

"As a heart attack." Ken shook himself then, his demeanor changed subtly. "But in a sense, you're right: I don't have time for self-pity right now. Whoever may be to blame is irrelevant right now; what matters is that we have less than twelve hours to plan and execute an evacuation... not to mention the rearguard action to make sure the two ships make it to space intact."

Dearka nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that'll be up to you, Kira, and Athrun?"

"Kira and me for sure," Ken agreed. "Athrun... Well, that depends on whether or not he's actually here for the long haul. He hasn't really said yet if he's sticking with us, or just here to give the Earth Forces a black eye, and keep Kira out of trouble for a little while." He shook his head. "Fact is, I don't know him that well. I know that he's cut from different cloth than his father, but..." He shrugged. "What do you think?"

"Hmm..." Dearka had to think about that. "I don't know, either," he admitted. "We were in the same team, but... Well, Nicol was the only one who really got along with him. Yzak and I were both angry at him for causing trouble with the Strike, just after Heliopolis, and that pretty much colored every conversation we had after that. So... I just don't know."

"Why not just _ask_ me?" another voice suggested. "Or are you too used to Machiavellian schemes to try that, Commander?"

Ken turned, to see Athrun himself standing there, watching them. "Hello, Athrun," he greeted. "I didn't hear you approach."

"Probably because you were too busy worrying about nuclear weapons," Athrun said dryly. "Kira tells me that you tend to be a little single-minded about that."

"Maybe so," the ace admitted with a shrug. "But you have to admit, I have reason to be."

"I know," Justice's pilot said, in a much quieter voice. "I lost my mom in the Bloody Valentine, remember?"

"Kind of hard to forget," Ken murmured. "Given what it drove Patrick to..." He shook himself. "Well, that brings me to the very question you spoke of, a moment ago: _are_ you staying with us, Athrun?"

"Yes," Athrun replied, without hesitation. "I've... spoken with my father, since our last meeting, Commander. I didn't want to believe it, but... I think you're right. I still haven't gotten any official confirmation about GENESIS, but given the way my father was talking... I wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that it's real, too." He tilted his head. "But the real question is... are _you_ willing to trust _me?"_

"You are not your father, Athrun," Ken said quietly. "I've known that for a long time. And Kira, for all our disagreements on tactics, has perhaps a better sense of people than I do. If he thinks you're on the level... then I'll trust his judgment." His eye narrowed. "But... is your father's genocidal intent your only reason for opposing him, Athrun?"

"No," Athrun admitted. "He... tried to have Lacus killed, just before I came to Earth. The attack failed," he added hastily, seeing the dangerous gleam in the ace's eye, "thanks mostly to your people... but it was the last straw. That, and his trust in Le Creuset." He nodded firmly. "So don't worry, Commander. I'm with you now... all the way."

Ken nodded to himself. "Then the stage is set," he murmured, and looked to a wall screen, showing the dawn sky... tinged with red. "Red sky at morning... sailors take warning."

* * *

Author's note: Athrun Zala has now joined the _Archangel,_ and no more must he fight his best friend. But now the time has come for the ship to leave... as all the pieces come together. 

My apologies for the late update; a... personal matter came up, which delayed things. If anyone complains, I _will_ burn them to a crisp.

Anyway. The next update shouldn't take quite so long... and it will have the biggest departure from canon yet. In the meantime, however, let me know how this chapter was. -Solid Shark


	34. Chapter 34: Griever

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Powell,_ Bridge, June 16th, C.E. 71

* * *

Muruta Azrael lightly drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. "How long until we're ready to resume the attack, Admiral?" he asked, sounding bored.

Admiral Hamilton glanced briefly at a status readout. "The Strike Daggers are getting ready now," he said after a moment. "The TLAM-Fives have been loaded onto the bomber; and the fighters are prepping as we speak. I believe the only delay is with your people, Director."

Blue Cosmos' leader nodded slightly. _Yes, I thought so; they always cause delays..._ "Well, Admiral," he said aloud, "it shouldn't be too much longer; I believe the pilots have been sufficiently... chastened. Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider will be ready in a few minutes... and I doubt they'll fail us again." He smiled thinly. "They know better than that."

"I hope you're right," the admiral grumbled. "We could've won this yesterday, if that blasted drug hadn't worn off at such a bad time... Not to mention how undisciplined those three are. I've seen better in a Boy Scout troop, let alone a proper military academy..."

Azrael chuckled. "Now, now, Admiral; I know it can be a pain, but that drug is exactly what gives us our best chance of defeating those machines. According to the source that gave us the N-jammer canceller data, at least two of them are equipped with the device... and probably DiFalco's machine, as well. Our regular troops are no match for it; even Cateau was defeated, despite her unit's formidable speed. And as for being undisciplined... well, what do you expect from convicted murderers?"

Hamilton snorted. "I suppose; but they're all one big disgrace... not even worth the lead it would take to shoot them. Their only use lies in their combat capabilities."

The Director nodded amiably. "I won't deny _that,_ Admiral; and once we've blown away the PLANTs, I'll probably have them quietly shot and stuffed in unmarked graves. But for the time being, we need them... especially with DiFalco on the loose."

Hamilton smiled thinly. "After today, Director, DiFalco shouldn't be a problem. That machine of his can't possibly survive a nuke; even that light-wave barrier only covers a small area. His only defense is speed... and the blast front travels even faster than he does."

"Indeed..."

"Report from the hangars, Admiral," the flight-control officer called. "Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider are ready for launch."

The admiral nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant." He turned to the Director. "Director, it appears all is ready. Shall I...?"

Azrael smiled. "Yes indeed, Admiral. Launch the attack at once... and do try to finish it this time, will you? I admit the Orb coastline is lovely, but I'd really rather observe it from Morgenroete's offices... instead of a ship that's about to be shot at."

* * *

Onogoro, Hangar

* * *

_"Warning! Enemy attack detected; multiple mobile suit and aircraft signatures inbound! All pilots, launch immediately! _Archangel, Kusanagi, _begin launch checks!"_

Ken's head snapped up at the announcement. "It's begun," he whispered. "The beginning of the end... the alpha of the omega..." He gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword, every muscle in his body suddenly tense. "A day of reckoning..."

A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder. "Come on, Ken," Kira urged. "There's no time for this now. We've got a job to do, remember? You can feel sorry for yourself later."

"Kira's right," Athrun agreed, appearing the ace's other side (Ken's blind side, as far as Athrun knew). "The three of us are the only ones who can get this job done; our machines are the only ones with the speed to fight them off, and still reach the _Kusanagi_ before the point of no return."

Ken took a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah," he said finally, as his mental discipline began to take hold. "Yeah, you're right. Murrue and Colonel Kisaka are counting on us." He smiled slightly then. "And besides, Cagalli would shoot me herself if I let anything happen to you now, Kira."

Kira glared at him. "And just what does _that_ mean, Ken?"

"Oh, nothing..." Chuckling softly to himself, the ace grabbed hold of Preybird's zip line, and ascended to the cockpit. _This is it; probably the last time I'll see Orb as anything but a nuclear-blasted wasteland... and I'll never see Lord Uzumi again._

He dropped into his seat, strapped in, and swiftly began an abbreviated preflight checklist. _Kira,_ a corner of his mind thought, _be careful... and take care of Cagalli. She's my partner, but _you're _the next best thing to her boyfriend... and I may not always be around to protect her. When the time comes to face GENESIS..._ He touched the photograph stuck on his controls. _I may be joining you before long, Laura; so I hope they can carry on without me. They don't realize how dangerous my mission really is..._

Down below, Kira glanced at Athrun quizzically. "Just what _was_ he talking about?" he demanded. "That didn't sound like 'nothing' to me."

Athrun chuckled. "Oh, come on, Kira; you should know yourself better than that. For that matter, you should know _Cagalli_ better than that. Do you really think there's _anyone_ in your immediate vicinity that hasn't realized what's going on between you two?"

Kira reddened. "Wh-what are you talking about, Athrun?"

"Never mind; we can talk about it later, when we're not in danger of being blown up." With a slight smile, Athrun took off for his machine at a dead run, leaving Kira to stare after him, dumbfounded.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"We've received confirmation from Lord Uzumi, Captain," Flay reported. "As soon as we exit the harbor, we're to launch for space." She paused. "He wishes us the best of luck, Ma'am."

"Tell him we acknowledge," Murrue replied with a nod. "And... tell him I'm sorry it has to be this way." She frowned. "Wait; what about Miss Cagalli? Isn't she supposed to be leaving with us?"

There was a quick flurry of typing and muttered exchanges from the communications station, before Flay spoke again. "She's on her way, Captain; she should be aboard in a couple of minutes, if all goes according to schedule."

The captain shook her head. "According to schedule..." she said softly. "In other words, as soon as she can be pried away from her father." She shook her head again, sadly. "She must've realized... realized what Lord Uzumi intends to do..."

"Probably," Mu agreed, standing near her chair. "She's a smart one, that's for sure," he added with a sigh. "I hope Kira -and Falcon- will be able to help her through this..."

Murrue glanced at him. "I can understand Kira," she said with some surprise, "but Ken? I didn't realize they were that close."

The Hawk chuckled. "Few people do; but I happened to notice that she wears his Order of the Nebula these days. Besides, you can tell just by the way they fought together, before Raptor fell apart, that they were true partners. And believe me, Captain: partners -at least in that sense- are closer in some ways that siblings, or lovers. They have to trust each other _completely;_ which, in a way, makes me surprised even she didn't find out about GENESIS until the rest of us did." He shook his head. "Yeah, those two are the only ones who can be there for her..."

* * *

Onogoro Island, Harbor

* * *

Cagalli was not, in actual fact, the only evacuee who was late. Leanne Eldridge, having set the self-destruct charge on the _Hades,_ was only now arriving at the _Archangel_'s dock at a dead run. _Pick up the pace, Eldridge,_ she told herself. _You miss this flight, and you'll be enjoying the hospitality of the Earth Alliance... which probably means you'll be dead before the day is over._

Reaching _Archangel_'s hatch, Leanne skidded to a stop, and looked back... just in time to see her friend Cagalli being dragged toward the ship by her father. "Lord Uzumi?" she said in surprise. "Wha...?"

"Go, Miss Eldridge," Lord Uzumi told her, pushing his daughter forward. "Please, hurry; and take my foolish daughter with you. I'm counting on you and the _Archangel_ to get her out of here. Please, safeguard the line of Orb... and the last of the Athha line."

"I will, My Lord," she promised, catching Cagalli's arm and holding the younger girl in place. "Between the Demons and Kira, we'll keep her safe. I promise."

Cagalli struggled to get free from Leanne's grip. "Father, no!"

Uzumi smiled gently. "Stop giving me that look," he admonished; but his heart wasn't in it. "It doesn't suit a child of the line of Orb." He sighed. "I'm sorry, my child... but this is the way it must be. I bear the responsibility for what has happened to Orb, but you must live on; you must return one day, to rebuild what you can from the ashes." The politician reached into his coat, and withdrew a computer disc, which he handed to Leanne. "Take this with you," he requested. "It contains many things I would rather explain to her myself, but we have not the time. Take it to Commander DiFalco; he should be able to hack the encryption... though I believe his sister already has the decryption keys in her possession."

Leanne gazed at it, distracted for an instant from the sobbing girl she kept from fleeing the _Archangel._ "Decryption keys...?"

"Just remember one thing," Uzumi went on, speaking more rapidly now, as the inexorable tick of entropy continued. "I hope that you never need to go there... but if you ever need the answers to the questions that disc may raise, go to Mendel. At GARM, you will find all the answers... probably more than you would prefer."

"Father... don't go..." Cagalli begged. "Don't leave me alone..."

He smiled sadly down at her. "You're leaving your father," he said quietly, "but you will not be alone. You have many, worthy friends now; those like Commander DiFalco will support you." He paused. "And Kira Yamato... I know what he means to you, Cagalli. Whatever happens between you, you have my blessing... not that you would've waited for it, of course."

"F-Father...?"

Uzumi nodded at Leanne. "Go, Miss Eldridge," he said again. "You carry the hope and future of Orb with you."

Leanne nodded, and hit the control to close the hatch. "I understand, Lord Uzumi. We won't fail."

Cagalli struggled even harder. "Father, no!"

Just as the hatch sealed itself, Uzumi smiled sadly, one last time. "I wish I could've been there for you longer, Cagalli... but at the least, I was very fortunate to have you as a daughter."

The hatch sealed, and the last Cagalli Yula Athha ever saw of her father was his sad smile... and the pride in his eyes, knowing that the daughter he had raised would be strong, even in the face of his death, and carry on with Orb's ideals.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Crew reports Leanne and Cagalli have boarded the ship, Captain," Mir called. "We're cleared to launch at any time now."

Murrue nodded. "Very well. Arnold, get us out of the harbor, and prepare to lift at full emergency thrust at my command."

"Roger that," Neumann acknowledged. "_Archangel_ is now exiting the harbor; estimated time to orbit launch is ten minutes."

"So it's almost over," Mu murmured to himself. "Man, oh man; I've been through a lot in my career, but I can't say I ever expected to launch into space in a three-hundred-forty-five meter spaceship without a mass driver, using only plasma boosters meant for another ship and a pair of positron cannons... all while fleeing nuclear weapons launched by my own former superiors. Yeah, this one takes the cake, all right..."

"It's worse than the Battle of Jachin Due," Sophia agreed, a little to his left. "I probably came closer to being killed there than we will here, but back then the greatest threat to my survival was my own little brother... not nukes. Man, I always hated those things... If it weren't for the energy crisis it caused, I'd probably have thanked the PLANTs for deploying the N-jammers."

"I think Ken already does," Murrue interjected. "Of course, he's never had much of an attachment to Earth; and he does have a point about how they've effectively eliminated fallout, and the remnants of old nuclear tests... and disasters." She frowned. "Which reminds me: we'd better inform Ken and Kira that we're about to lift off; I know they're going to use _Kusanagi_ to reach orbit altitude, but just in case..." She looked down into CIC. "Miriallia, get me the Preybird, please."

"Yes, Ma'am," Mir replied, and opened a channel. "Ken, the captain wants a word with you... if you're not busy," she added, in a weak attempt at humor.

_"Never too busy to talk to our lovely captain,"_ Ken answered laconically; judging from his tone -and unusual phrasing- he was burying his unease -and horror- at the thought of nuclear weapons under a veneer of carefree, devil-may-care casualness. _"So what is it?"_

"We're about to launch, Ken," Murrue told him, a little startled by his choice of words, but too busy to think much of it. "Are you and Kira ready to cover us?"

_"Ready as we can be, in the face of nukes,"_ he replied. _"So's Athrun; guess he's serious about sticking with us. Not sure he can give up on his father that easily, though..."_

"I'd actually rather forgotten about him," she admitted. "I'll have to meet him, when we're safely in orbit, out of the Earth Forces' reach."

_"I'm sure Kira will be delighted to introduce you two,"_ Ken murmured, sounding amused. _"I hope you can forgive him for shooting you, back at Heliopolis."_

She chuckled. "I _thought_ he looked familiar. Well, Ken, we'd both better get to work; _Archangel_ leaves for orbit in less than ten minutes, and _Kusanagi_ not long after that. Not only do I suspect you don't want to miss the boat, but I expect it'll be a little unhealthy around here after the mass driver and Morgenroete are destroyed."

_"Unhealthy is putting it mildly,"_ he said grimly. _"You've never been near a nuke when it went off; I have. Believe me, it ain't a picnic."_ He paused; and she could almost see him staring at the photo in his cockpit. _"Preybird, out,"_ he said abruptly, and was gone.

"Every time we get into a stressful -or desperate- situation," Murrue murmured, "he gets a little more human. If only it didn't take a near-death experience to do it..."

Sophia chuckled. "That doesn't sound like you, Murrue."

The captain glanced at her old friend. "Just what are you saying, Sophia? You sound like you're about to reveal the secrets of the universe or something."

The Kestrel rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Murrue. Admit it, you like the guy."

Murrue frowned, puzzled. "Well, of course; now that he's not acting like he has all the feelings of a dead fish, he's a very likeable young man. What are you getting at?"

"That's not what I meant-"

"Enemy mobile suits incoming!" Pal announced. "Identified as Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider; they're closing on our position!"

"Understood," Murrue said tightly, nodding; Cateau's information on the new Alliance machines had been invaluable. "Arnold?"

"We've exited the harbor, Captain," Neumann responded. "Ready for launch sequence."

"Very well. Raise bow twenty degrees, and boost engines to maximum thrust. Charge the Lohengrin and stand by."

"Lohengrin charging, Captain," Natarle informed her a moment later. "Ready to fire on your command."

"Good." Murrue looked out the forward viewport, watching as the world seemed to drop away from beneath them. The _Archangel_ now pointed at the sky, and her engines, normally incapable of raising her above even the average mountaintop, were about to receive aid in the form of positronic interference from the Lohengrin's antimatter stream.

_So here ends our long rest in Orb,_ she thought, almost absently. _We came here hoping for a rest, while we prepared for, as Ken always calls it, the "real war"... and now we have to leave, chased by nuclear fire... I begin to understand how Ken must've felt, losing Junius Seven in the Bloody Valentine, his team at Endymion... and his place in life, when he realized GENESIS' awful potential._

She watched a moment more, then nodded decisively. "Fire Lohengrin."

* * *

Sky Above Kaguya Island

* * *

Ken DiFalco watched the _Archangel_'s powerful positron cannons fire, and nodded to himself as the "White Bird" became wreathed in actinic plasma and positronic fire on her way to space. _Nothing can stop her now,_ he thought. _She's safe; so now all we have to worry about is _Kusanagi. _Don't worry, Murrue; we'll be with you in a few minutes..._

Drawing Preybird's huge Gerbera Straight, he dimly heard Kira signaling the mass driver facilities. "Kaguya, what's your status? We have enemies incoming."

_"Keep them off us for just a few minutes,"_ Uzumi requested. _"Once _Kusanagi _has launched from the mass driver, you'll be in the clear; just hold them off until then."_

"We will," Kira promised. "Athrun? Ken?"

Before Athrun could speak, Ken looked over at the Freedom. "You two leave this to me," he said quietly. "Once _Kusanagi_ starts moving, grab hold; I can take things from here. No need to risk all three of us... when one can do the job."

"No way," Athrun said firmly. "You're the _last_ person we can risk, Commander; you're the only one who knows how to destroy GENESIS... and if we weren't in the middle of a situation like this, I'd probably tell you how stupid it is that you're the only one. As it is..."

"Besides," Kira cut in, "if I let you do everything yourself, you'll leave nothing but scorched earth behind you. Or are you going to try and tell me you _weren't_ planning to use the Nataraja on the Earth Forces fleet as soon as we were out of range?"

Ken's eye narrowed. "And the problem with that is...?"

"I won't let you massacre them out of revenge, Ken," the younger pilot said bluntly. "I can't do that."

The ace's hands clenched on his control sticks. "One day, Kira," he said quietly, "your unwillingness to take the final step _will_ be your undoing. War isn't a game, and it is _not_ a place for idealists. Kill or be killed; the law of the jungle reigns on the battlefield."

"There's something to be said for turning the other cheek," Kira shot back.

"Sure there is; but not when that means getting your cheek shot _off."_ Ken shrugged. "Fine; if you want to help out, go ahead... even if I don't need any help."

"This from the man who built a machine whose only protection is a light-wave barrier?" Athrun snorted. "There's something to be said for defense, you know."

"My defense is in my maneuverability, Athrun," Ken told him. "The light-wave shield is for when I _can't_ dodge... which, against these jokers, is an uncommon situation."

"Quiet, you two," Kira interjected. "Here they come!"

Ken's head snapped around. "I see them," he said, tone shifting to detached calm as the battle became imminent. "Calamity, Forbidden, Raider... and a bomber." His eye narrowed. "Let me handle the bomber, you two; I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You're going to shoot it down?" Kira said immediately, voice sharp.

"If you can tell me how to disable a fixed-wing aircraft, I'm open to suggestions," the ace said acidly. "But in my experience, mobile suit weapons tend to make very short work of conventional aircraft. Now get going; those three suits are the real threat to the _Kusanagi."_

"Roger that," Athrun acknowledged. "Come on, Kira; this time he's right."

Kira nodded reluctantly; his mentor _did_ have a point about the fragility of conventional aircraft. _And if he's thinking what I think he's thinking... then I guess there's no choice._

_Not even Phase-shift would protect us from a nuke._

"Go," Ken told him, breaking into his thoughts. "And if I don't make it... Well, the Demons have complete schematics for GENESIS. Using those, you should be able to find a way to destroy it." Without another word, he hit his verniers, boosting off towards the bomber.

Athrun looked over at Freedom. "He thinks that bomber is carrying nuclear weapons, doesn't he?"

Kira nodded. "I think so... and I'm not about to say he's wrong."

Then they, too, turned to face their enemies.

* * *

Ken DiFalco, commander of the pitiful few to survive the Battle of Endymion Crater, survivor of the Bloody Valentine Tragedy, had a sixth sense where nuclear weapons were concerned. He had the distinct feeling that the single bomber being sent his way carried at least one TLAM-Five nuclear-tipped missile.

That meant it was absolutely imperative that it be shot down.

And he only had, by his watch, five minutes in which to do it.

"Time to make bricks without straw," he muttered to himself. "And hope not to get blown out of the sky while I'm at it."

That was when he noticed something interesting: the bomber seemed to be circling not far from the Fourth Fleet itself, as though in a badly-concealed attempt to lure him into range of the entire fleet's weaponry. Even more interestingly, he was pretty sure that was exactly what it was doing.

And, unluckily for him, he had little choice but to take the bait. That was one target that _had_ to be engaged, no matter the risk to himself.

"Fine," Ken murmured. "You may hurt me some, but it won't be enough to stop me. Nothing can be allowed to get in my way..."

He slashed across the sky toward the fleet... totally unaware of the _real_ trap that awaited him.

* * *

_Powell,_ Bridge

* * *

"There he is, Director," Admiral Hamilton noted. "He's taking the bait, just as you suggested. I wasn't sure he'd actually do it."

Azrael chuckled. "What you have to understand, Admiral, is that some things are the same in both the business world and the battlefield. One of those things is that you should know yourself and know your enemy... and I know Commander DiFalco. Not as much about him as I'd like, but I know he's a survivor of the Bloody Valentine; so it was a reasonable assumption that he'd have a certain psychological problem where nuclear weapons were concerned. My belief -which seems to have been proven- was that he'd instantly attack any unit he believed was carrying nukes."

Hamilton nodded. "All right, I can see that; but why risk coming this close? He could easily hit it from that distance with one of his ranged weapons. For that matter, he could use that infernal positron cannon of his and just blow us all away."

"No, I don't think he'd do that," the Director disagreed. "I've studied his tactics; and while he _does_ have an irritating habit of being unpredictable, I've noticed that he also has a habit of using melee attacks. According to what little Intelligence ever learned about him, he was a trained swordsman before he ever became a pilot. From what I can tell, that makes him instinctively resort to close combat first; which usually works quite well. But it leaves him vulnerable at times... like now." He smiled. "And I don't think he'll use the positron cannon, either."

The admiral raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Two reasons: first, he's not a fan of friendly fire; probably in reaction to the losses his unit suffered at Endymion. Second... I have the feeling that the pilot of the white machine wouldn't let him."

Now Hamilton was getting curious. "What makes you say that?"

Azrael shrugged. "It's just a feeling I have... but I've noticed how those machines behave. Judging from the occasional hesitation on the part of DiFalco's machine when the white one is around, they've been arguing about something... and the very fact that he hasn't used the positron cannon tells me that it's been about tactics. Judging from the white machine's preference for disabling attacks, its pilot is probably unhappy with DiFalco's methods. That's something we can use to our advantage." He steepled his fingers. "Ah, here he is now. Order the bomber to launch the first TLAM; set it for a surface hit off... oh, say, the Izanagi coastline. That should make him nice and mad."

* * *

Sky Above Orb Union

* * *

Ken saw the lone bomber launch a solitary weapon, and he frowned in confusion. It wasn't even aimed at him, so why...? _What are they up to? Trying to smoke out any remaining defenders? Even for someone like Azrael, this seems a waste... Oh, no!_

Half a kilometer away, Kira was just beginning to engage the Raider -with the Calamity atop it- when he heard a cry of pure anguish, and he spun around just in time to see a flash of painfully bright light... and the mushroom cloud characteristic of a nuclear explosion.

He heard Athrun gasp over the radio, while Justice sideslipped a plasma beam from Forbidden. "Kira, that was-! How _could_ they?"

"It's not like we didn't expect it," Kira replied numbly, "but that's not even what I'm worried about. Ken saw that, and if I know him and nukes, he'll-"

His words were prophetic. Less than a second after the nuclear warhead detonated, Preybird's massive katana went back in its sheath, and both beam rifles came out, while the rail cannons on its hips unfolded. "You bastards," Ken hissed in pure rage... and behind his eyes, a Prussian blue seed burst.

Curiously, he ignored the bomber completely, choosing instead to direct his fire against the Fourth Fleet itself. Beam after emerald beam spat from the twin rifles, as his rail cannons went to rapid, continuous fire. Ships became ablaze as armor literally melted under the onslaught, and sloughed off; gun turrets detonated under the pounding... while Muruta Azrael absorbed the losses with a smile.

For by now, the carriers had begun deploying Strike Daggers; the machines perched atop the launch hatches, pouring emerald fire back at the Preybird.

Ken flung himself around with the speed and agility only his machine was capable, but he was focused almost entirely on offense. Not even his light-wave barrier was active as he charged straight at the guns of the enemy... and soon, that hostile fire began to take its toll.

First one beam rifle went, in a blaze of glory, then the other; they were followed quickly into death by the rail cannons, smashed and melted by bullets and energy fire.

Kira was therefore stunned when Ken continued his insanely reckless attack with his DRAGOON system and -of all things- his CIWS. It was so completely out of character that he didn't even know what to do; all he could do was watch Preybird charge ahead, heedless of all reason, firing dozens of energy streams from his wing DRAGOONs and a constant barrage of gunfire.

A destroyer appeared at first to simply melt under the concentrated fire of forty beam emitters, and then simply exploded; one of the _Tarawa_-class carriers followed it into death a moment later, when the remote units turned their full fury upon it.

Then two things began to happen: _Kusanagi_ appeared at the base of the mass driver... and a thin red streak from Preybird pierced the skis.

* * *

_Powell,_ Bridge

* * *

Muruta Azrael saw that streak, and realized immediately that he'd miscalculated. "Oops," he said, almost calmly. "Apparently he's not very concerned about the other pilot's opinion right now." He looked at Hamilton. "One question, Admiral: are we in the line of fire?"

"About half the Fleet is," the admiral replied tautly, "but we shouldn't be, unless it has an even greater radius than our worst-case projections. But we are about to get hurt, Director."

"I thought so-"

The bright column engulfed Preybird, and it was only a moment before the twin satellite cannon barrels snapped up over the machine's shoulders. After an even briefer pause, twin columns of red-orange fire lanced out, met, and expanded, producing a torrent of antimatter fury... all of it reaching out to touch the Atlantic Federation's Fourth Naval Fleet.

Ships caught in the blast appeared to simply dissolve; those that didn't vanish instantly, at least. Nothing caught in that titanic energy release could live, and only the -relatively- tight focus of the beam saved surviving crews from severe gamma radiation burns.

Yet such fury could last only moments, and Azrael's mind had not completely locked up at the realization of his error, and its aftermath. "Have the bomber launch the second missile," he ordered harshly. "Take him down, _now!"_

Hamilton didn't hesitate to pass on the orders... and a second nuclear-tipped TLAM-Five missile jetted away from the bomber, straight at Preybird.

* * *

Sky Above Orb Union

* * *

Had he been an ordinary Berserker, Ken would probably have died that day. But the Hyper Berserker state Heinrich Metzinger had engineered into him, while triggered almost exclusively by the pure rage that gripped him now, also permitted him to register far more of what was going on than an ordinary man.

So he saw the missile coming toward him, and it shocked his mind back into sanity. "Oh, no..." he whispered. "What have I done...? I've killed us all..." Knowing he wouldn't make it out of the blast radius in time, he nonetheless pushed Preybird's abused frame to its limits, diverting all power into the thrusters.

He almost made it... and that was all that allowed him to survive.

Fortunately for him, the weapon was a tactical, not strategic, nuclear warhead, so the blast was far smaller than it might've been. Ken was at the extreme edge of it when it detonated... and even there, the results verged on cataclysmic. Seven of Preybird's ten wings were torn apart, its head vanished into oblivion, and the beam boomerangs -along with sizable chunks of both arms- were blown away.

The blast might still have consumed the machine... but then Freedom was there, grabbing hold of what remained and dragging Preybird clear. By this time, most of the Phase-shift had literally boiled away under the force of the explosion, and the main hatch was breached, but the inner pilot module was still sealed... which meant that Ken was still safe from the effects of vacuum.

The whole event had taken less than thirty seconds, which left Kira barely enough time to attempt to catch up with _Kusanagi,_ even with the added drag of Preybird's limp hulk. "How are we doing, Athrun?" he demanded, hurrying to rejoin the Justice.

"Those three machines were forced away by the explosion," Athrun answered; his machine had already grabbed hold of _Kusanagi_'s hull, and now stretched out its free hand to Freedom. "What about Commander DiFalco? Is he all right?"

"I don't know; I haven't contacted him yet, and we probably won't be able to until we reach orbit." Straining to catch up with the rapidly-accelerating ship, Kira gritted his teeth. _Come on, come on..._ Just as Ken had done moments earlier, he threw all power into his thrusters, stretching Freedom's hand as far as it would go at the same time. "Athrun-!"

"Gotcha!" Justice's hand closed on Freedom's, and the white machine secured its own grip on the _Kusanagi_'s hull. "You okay, Kira?"

"Yeah," Kira said heavily, carefully securing Preybird to the hull. "Barely. Hang on, Athrun."

"I know." Athrun paused. "But what do you mean, we can't contact him? Is his radio out?"

"Since he doesn't have a head right now, his primary radio is," Kira pointed out. "But that's not my point. If he went Berserker, he'll be unconscious right now. Something about the way his 'Hyper Berserker' state works knocks him out afterwards."

"No," Ken gasped over the radio, breaking in. "I'm... I'm here... sort of."

"You okay?" his protégé asked. "That didn't look good."

"It wasn't. But... I'll live..."

As _Kusanagi_ accelerated to escape velocity and left the mass driver behind, Athrun stiffened. "Kira, Commander, look!"

Kira's eyes widened, and Ken tiredly raised his head, just in time to see two mammoth explosions erupt beneath them. One centered on the Morgenroete facility, where the _Archangel_ had twice been repaired, while another engulfed the mass driver... and a third erupted beneath the waves, where _Hades_ rested.

In that moment, Uzumi Nara Athha and his entire government died, by their own design. But that was not the worst.

The worst came only seconds later, when Muruta Azrael realized that everything he'd come here to acquire had just been destroyed, ruining his careful plans to capture a mass driver and thus regain the ability to send large cargoes to space.

And also destroying his last reason _not_ to use full force against the islands of the Orb Union.

Missiles streaked out at Mach Six... and at that speed, it took a very, very short time to reach the first of their targets.

Kira and Athrun closed their eyes in horror; and they both heard a sound of anguish from Preybird, as the fires of nuclear devastation spread across Onogoro, Izanagi, Kaguya, and all the other islands of Orb.

Numb with horror, Kira knew Ken DiFalco's must be far, far worse. The survivor of three separate uses of weapons of mass destruction, and the creator of another, the agony he felt could be sensed even over the radio. _If we let him, he might just... let himself go. I'd... better say something to him. Anything, as long as it isn't about what just happened. Just to make sure he doesn't..._ He couldn't finish the thought.

He cleared his throat. "By the way, Ken," he began quietly, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"What's that?" Ken responded dully; but he appreciated what his friend was trying to do.

"Does that sword of yours have a name?"

The ace nodded, tears beginning to leak from his eyes, even under his eyepatch. "Yes, it does."

"What is it?"

Down below, the earth burned in the fires of Muruta Azrael's vengeance, adding poignancy to Ken's whispered, one-word reply.

"Griever..."

* * *

PLANTs, Martius Three, True ZAFT Base, June 19th, C.E. 71

* * *

Lance "Sparky" Cooper took one last look at the battered conference table, and sighed. For a period of nine months -and two months following the Bloody Valentine before that- this base had been home; many plans had been made at that table, and it was in this very room that Ken DiFalco's Shiva Option Three had been born. Here Sparky himself had presided, after "the Boss" departed, over the operations of the incipient "True ZAFT" faction, along with Leanne Eldridge and Tom Delaney. Here they had begun construction of the _Asmodeus_ and Preybird, and resumed construction of the _Arkbird._

Later, Leanne had been detached for liaison duty with Orb, and her place had been taken by Nicol Amalfi; and shortly thereafter, Siegel Clyne had joined the privileged few at that battered table. A conspiracy to counter Patrick Zala's conspiracy had been born and reared here... and now it was time to leave.

"Commander Cooper?" Lacus Clyne called softly from the doorway, breaking into his thoughts. "Are you all right?"

Sparky took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Miss Lacus. Just... remembering old comrades, who should've been here, but aren't. Like Alicia Sharpe, the original Asmodeus... Even Victor Tempest, when you come right down to it. He was one of us, before he lost his mind; he would've been a welcome addition to our forces."

"But what we _do_ have is still a substantial -and formidable- force, Commander," she pointed out. "We have a chance to stop Chairman Zala, thanks to your foresight."

"It wasn't _our_ foresight," Tom Delaney said quietly. "We didn't see any of it ourselves. It was the Boss who figured out what was going on... and how to stop it. It was a longshot, but we've made it work... and it was all done from this very room. It's... kinda hard to leave, y'know? I mean, I know it's ridiculous to feel sentimental about a room, but..."

"Not ridiculous at all," Siegel Clyne demurred, appearing behind his daughter. "It's never easy to abandon a place where you've been through so much." He smiled. "But this isn't the end, is it, _Captain_ Cooper? You have a ship waiting for you, and a mission. And a new base, if Leanne's survey was accurate."

Beside him, Tom froze. "It was," he said tightly. "And frankly, I'm not sure the Mendel Colony is where we want to be. It _certainly_ isn't a place we want Kira Yamato or Cagalli Yula Athha anywhere near."

Lacus looked up at her father. "What are they talking about, Father?"

Siegel's eyes narrowed. "I think... it might be better if you wait outside, Lacus. I have a feeling this is something that should not be discussed casually."

She nodded, puzzled, but trusting her father's judgment. "I'll head for the _Eternal,_ then," she announced. "Captain Waltfeld will be ready to move soon. Don't be late," she added, as she left.

Once the door was closed, Siegel gave his old bodyguard a very sharp look. "Just what is it that you two know?" he demanded. "What could possibly be at Mendel that you would want to keep Kira and Miss Cagalli away from? The place has been abandoned for years."

Sparky flicked his gaze over to the engineer. "You explain, Tom," he said tiredly. "You're the engineer, not me."

"_Mechanical_ engineer," Tom pointed out. "But yeah, I know a little about genetics."

Clyne sighed. "Are either of you going to give me a straight answer, or are you just going to keep equivocating? And what does genetic engineering have to do with anything?"

Tom dropped into his old chair at the table. "We don't know all the details," he began, "though we have reason to believe the Boss's sister does. We _do_ know, however, that a place called GARM -that's Genetic Advanced Reproductive Research and Development- exists in one of the least-used areas of the old Mendel Colony. About seventeen or eighteen years ago, there was a man named Doctor Ulen Hibiki working there, in Coordinator research... and he came up with something called the 'Ultimate Coordinator Project'. We don't know exactly what this entailed... but we _do_ know that there were at least three 'successful' test subjects, though one was labeled a failure." He snorted. "Personally, I think _anybody_ who survived to be born could be considered a success. Anyway, that first test subject was a fellow named Canard Pars; after he was 'disposed of', the Eurasian Federation somehow got hold of him, and he was put to work flying one of the prototypes of the Eurasian machine the Boss had us build. We've since lost track of him... but it just so happens that he's a full-blooded brother of Kira Yamato."

The former Chairman blinked in surprise. "How can that be? The Yamatos-"

"Caridad Yamato and her husband are not Kira's real parents," Sparky said quietly. "His _real_ parents we've been unable to locate; they may even be dead. But their names? ...Via and Ulen Hibiki."

Clyne swallowed, comprehension beginning to dawn. "So Kira Yamato..."

"...Is one of the other two successes." Tom nodded. "We have no idea what capabilities he may posses, but this explains the extraordinary piloting ability he has, and even how he managed to pick up mobile suit piloting so fast in the first place. In any case, what we've seen indicates that he surpasses even the Boss... which, when you think about it, is a very scary thought."

"Though the Ultimate Coordinator project touched on him, too," Sparky rumbled. "Probably not directly; but it so happens that Doctor Heinrich Metzinger, creator of 'Der Schreckick Eins', was one of Hibiki's colleagues... and deeply involved in the Ultimate Coordinator project."

"This is monstrous..." Clyne whispered. "So, then... who was the third test subject?"

"Ah, that brings us to perhaps the most twisted part of the tale," Tom said slowly. "We have very little data on the subject -and we suspect the one person who _did_ have complete data, outside of the project team, is dead, and the data with him- but, through much digging, we've learned that a member of a certain royal line was somehow involved in the Project."

When the engineer paused, Sparky sighed, and completed it for him. "Uzumi Nara Athha was indeed her real father... but somehow Cagalli Yula Athha was a part of the Ultimate Coordinator Project. How she became involved, we do not know... and her capabilities are just as much a mystery as those of Kira Yamato." He met his former charge's eyes. "She, like Kira, may well have the potential to surpass Der Schreckick Eins, if she is ever trained as a Coordinator, instead of the Natural she's been led to believe she is."

* * *

_Arkbird,_ Bridge

* * *

An hour after the final, impromptu conference, Sparky stepped onto the Bridge of what was technically the prototype for the _Eternal._

Technically.

In actual fact, though their exteriors were very similar, the _Arkbird_'s weaponry internal arrangement were very different. Where the _Eternal_ was intended as a transport for ZGMF-X09A Justice and X10A Freedom, _Arkbird_ was designed as a command ship... one with the ability to defend itself most efficiently. Equipped with a pair of hardwired METEOR turrets, a double-barreled beam cannon above the launch deck, numerous laser point defense clusters, and two engine pod-mounted beam turrets, no enemy would attack it lightly.

On the inside, the differences were even greater. It had hangar space for four ZGMF-600 GuAIZ machines -as opposed to _Eternal_'s two ZGMF-X spaces- more efficient engines, and a "war room" with duplicates of the Bridge displays, showing the compartment's occupants everything that was done on the Bridge.

The Bridge itself was a major departure from standard ZAFT design, in large part due to its use of some of Preybird's technology. It was positioned on a transparent length of deck that stretched out into a cylindrical compartment, whose curved bulkheads used Preybird's panoramic view technology, giving the Bridge crew a much wider view than that of a conventional command deck.

It was here that Sparky Cooper would spend the remainder of the war. No longer in top form for mobile suit combat, "the Boss" has detailed him to command the _Arkbird,_ once construction was completed and the Martius Three base was abandoned.

_Not where I'd have chosen to spend this phase of my career,_ Sparky thought to himself, settling into the Captain's chair. _But orders are orders; and the Boss is right. I'm getting a little large to pilot a mobile suit._ He grinned to himself. _Large enough that if this chair weren't custom-fitted, I'd probably break it... and not a bit of it fat._ He wasn't overweight, just a very large man.

"Captain on deck," the helm officer called.

"If anybody stops working just because I'm here, I'll break him in two," Sparky rumbled; the remark resulted -unsurprisingly- in general chuckling. "Communications, get me a link with _Asmodeus, _will you?"

"Aye aye."

A moment later, a screen formed in the air in front of him (like standard viewscreens, _Arkbird_ had abandoned normal communications displays). _"I see you've made it aboard,"_ Tom remarked from his own Bridge, nearly identical to that of the _Archangel._ _"About time to split, eh?"_

Sparky nodded. "Just about. How are things on your end?"

_"Nicol's ready to launch at any time; we _think _Raiden won't explode on us or anything."_ The engineer-turned-ship captain grinned. _"And the GuAIZ team is ready, too. Reactor is going strong, and our engines are ready for the breakaway."_

"Good; stand by while I bring _Eternal_ into the circuit." The big captain nodded at his comm officer, and another image appeared in the air. "Captain Waltfeld, what's your status?"

Andrew "Desert Tiger" Waltfeld, thought dead by most for months, now sat on the Bridge of the _Eternal._ His left sleeve was empty, and an inverted-Y scar ran over his closed left eyelid, but he was very much alive... as was the black-haired woman at his side. _"We're good to go,"_ he said, _"as soon as Master Siegel arrives."_ He glanced over his shoulder, at the pink-haired girl sitting behind him. _"The Songstress herself is already here, but her father seems to be running a mite late."_

Sparky could hear the hatch that opened a moment later. _"I'm here,"_ Clyne announced. _"I was just overseeing the departure of the last of Patrick's loyalists."_

Waltfeld nodded. _"Then I think we're ready, Captain Cooper. So, where exactly are we going?"_

"We're to rendezvous with the Orb satellite Ame-no-Mihashira," Sparky answered. "According to the last report, _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ arrived there within hours of the nuclear attack on Orb. For now, the situation there is stable -though I'm told the Boss had an unpleasant encounter with Rondo Ghina Sahaku- so we're going there, for now."

_"Understood."_ The Tiger smiled. _"Shall we get moving, then?"_

"Yes." The _Arkbird_'s commander smiled himself. "And, of course, we can't forget our little message on the way out."

_"Which message would that be?"_ Tom asked, with a lurking grin. _"The one we send by blowing up the old base... or the transmission to Patrick, when you tell him 'nyah, nyah, nyah'?"_

"I was thinking about the latter," Sparky informed him, "though I intend to be a little more dignified than that. Still, blowing up the base should get his attention, too... and so will _Eternal_'s sudden departure."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Patrick Zala's Office

* * *

The first notice anyone had that the Gray Demons were making their move was when a tremendous explosion rocked Martius Three; and it wasn't long before a ZAFT officer rushed into Zala's office, looking flustered. "Your Excellency!" he blurted. "There's been an incident at Martius Three's military facilities!"

"What kind of incident?" Zala demanded. _What now? First Falcon betrays us, then Clyne -that bastard- leaks Spit Break, and now an "incident" at a ZAFT base?_

The soldier swallowed. "We're not sure exactly what is going on, Sir, but an explosion just occurred at an abandoned base there; and two ships have been seen to exit the harbor. Neither one is in our database... but one of them resembles the _Eternal,_ and the other appears to be a copy of the Earth Forces' _Archangel_-class."

The Chairman's eyes narrowed. "Show me," he ordered.

The officer nodded, and activated a wall screen. "This is a current view of the area, Sir; ZAFT forces have already been dispatched to intercept."

As they watched, old-model GINNs and CGUEs raced out after the two slate-gray ships, accompanied by a handful of newer GuAIZ units. Several warning shots were fired at the ships, but those warnings were ignored... and, curiously, both vessels appeared to be flying courses parallel to the PLANTs, instead of away... as if they were waiting for something...

Zala's eyes blazed, for he recognized one of those ships. "That's the _Arkbird,_" he hissed. "The ship Commander DiFalco designed before going on to the GENESIS Project. The Gray Demons have been here all along, under our very noses!" He slammed his fist on his desk. "Order our machines to destroy both of those ships, immediately! Those are all traitors!"

"Uh, yes, Sir!" The soldier turned to pass the orders... and Zala's teeth gritted, seeing what happened next.

_Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_ both opened their catapults, and armed their weapons; and within moments, slate-gray GuAIZ's began to launch, while sleets of emerald energy poured out into space. It was a wall of green fire, escorted by gray mobile suits... and that wasn't even the worst of it.

For another machine was already out in space, and shortly made itself known. Nicol Amalfi's Raiden, a near carbon-copy of Rondo Sahaku's Gold Frame AMATU, deactivated its Mirage Colloid and torn into the ZAFT forces. Two months out of the cockpit clearly had not dulled his skills, for wherever his beam rifle fired, something died.

The sheer surprise of the event had effectively ensured its success; ZAFT interceptors were too disorganized to mount an effective interception. _Those bastards knew exactly what they were doing,_ Zala thought furiously. _Taking us by surprise like that- Wait... that flying style seems familiar..._ He frowned, wondering what that meant. He didn't usually pay much attention to such things, unless they were elite units like the Gray Demons, or...

"Sir!" the soldier called, hearing another report over his headset. "The _Eternal_ has just blown a hole in its harbor, and is heading out!"

"What? Get me Captain Waltfeld, immediately!" If the Desert Tiger had decided to go after the traitors himself, then he'd become a reckless glory hound, which was something ZAFT could _not_ afford...

But it was not Andrew Waltfeld's face who appeared on Zala's desk screen. Instead, it was a large man with a pronounced facial tic... and a grin that looked like it should split his face in half. _"Hello, Chairman,"_ Sparky Cooper said amiably. _"I guess right now you're wondering about the _Eternal_'s abrupt departure. Well, I should probably inform you that Captain Waltfeld has no intention of firing on us; in fact, he's on his way to _join _us."_

Zala's face began to turn purple with sheer rage. "Cooper, you traitor!" he barked. "Just what do you think you're doing? Joining your bastard of a commander?"

_"That's the general idea,"_ Sparky confirmed. _"You see, the Boss told us about GENESIS back when the project first began... and we didn't like the implications. So, we decided to form a conspiracy to stop you from wiping out all Naturals; in fact, what I personally consider to be the ideal solution would be to walk into your office and blow your brains out. But, since it doesn't look like I'll have that opportunity any time soon, I thought our best course of action would be to rendezvous with the Boss, who happens to be in a place where not even you would be foolish enough to go after him. Then we'll marshal our resources, and get ready to come back in triumph some day. For now, however... I must bid you adieu."_ He reached for off-screen, obviously to cut the transmission, but paused abruptly. _"Oh, yes; I believe there are a couple of people on the _Eternal _who want to have a word with you. I'll patch them in."_

Sparky's face disappeared, and was replaced with an image of the _Eternal_'s Bridge. Even before a word was spoken, Zala saw several things that were _not_ calculated to make his mood any better. One of those things was Andrew Waltfeld, calmly gazing at him as if he _wasn't_ in the midst of committing treason; and behind him sat Lacus Clyne, with her father standing beside her, both of whom Zala had been trying to catch for a solid month now.

They, however infuriating, were not as surprising as the final person he noticed on _Eternal_'s Bridge. The presence of Lacus Clyne and her father was hardly unexpected, given their known treason... but seeing Yuri Amalfi there sent a spike of incredulous rage through him. _"Yuri!_ Just what are _you_ doing there?"

Amalfi smiled sadly. _"I'm sorry, Chairman, but I find my conscience requires me to leave your faction now. Commander DiFalco and his allies are following the path that leads to the future of the PLANTs... not you."_

Zala stared at him in shock. "But... they killed your son. Doesn't that _mean_ anything to you, Yuri? We've both lost things to the Naturals..."

_"There's one problem with what you just said, Chairman,"_ Amalfi informed him. _"You see, my son isn't dead."_ He smiled again, more naturally. _"In fact, he's out there right now, protecting our comrades. It's not easy for him to fire on ZAFT forces... but we've all made our decision. And frankly, Chairman, I suspect you wouldn't be too popular in the PLANTs themselves, if your true intentions were to get out. There might even be a call for new elections..."_

Zala barked a harsh laugh. "And who would succeed me? You? Or perhaps Clyne?"

_"No, I don't think so; neither of would feel comfortable returning to the Council in any capacity, I suspect. No, given a choice, I'd nominate Commander DiFalco for the post."_

The Chairman's hands gripped his desk, knuckles swiftly turning white from the pressure. "Him? You can't be serious! Even if he weren't even more a traitor than you are, that man would never take the job."

_"Agreed,"_ Clyne put in. _"Though that probably won't stop us from suggesting it, when the time comes. In any case, Patrick, there's nothing you can do to stop us right now."_

_"He's right,"_ Waltfeld concurred. _"By the time you get sufficient forces here, we'll be long gone."_ He raised his good hand in mocking salute. _"Good bye, Your Excellency; Andrew Waltfeld, of the True ZAFT faction, out."_

His image winked out, and Zala could then do nothing but stare in impotent rage as _Eternal_ rendezvoused with _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus,_ and flew majestically out of range of anything the PLANTs could throw at them.

* * *

_Arkbird,_ Bridge

* * *

As the three ships sailed sedately away from the PLANTs, Sparky leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself. "Well, Captain Waltfeld," he rumbled, "I think that succeeded in raising Patrick's blood pressure a few dozen points. Identifying yourself as belonging to True ZAFT was a particularly delightful touch."

_"I thought so,"_ Waltfeld agreed. _"I was actually just trying to make him mad; angry people tend not to think clearly. But I expect _you _were hoping he'd drop dead of apoplexy, weren't you?"_

The big captain shrugged. "It would make _my_ life easier," he admitted. "And I doubt the Boss would shed any tears; I gather he became as close to a friend to Patrick as you could get after the Bloody Valentine, but their 'falling out' burned away any lingering shred of _that._"

_"I guess it's fortunate,"_ Siegel Clyne said heavily. _"Patrick and I _were _friends, you know, before the war. But he's drifted so far from the ideals he once held... I don't know if Commander DiFalco's realized it, but I doubt we can win this war as long as Patrick is still alive."_

_"Agreed," _Amalfi put in. _"And I was serious, you know, about nominating DiFalco for the Supreme Council Chairmanship. He may be overly ruthless in wartime, but there's no questioning his intelligence... or his integrity. I think he'd do a fine job."_

Lacus laughed softly. _"So do I, Mr. Amalfi; but you know as well as I that he'd never accept. He sees himself as a military man, nothing more; he truly believes that what he's doing is nothing more than would be expected of a soldier, serving his country. Although,"_ she went on thoughtfully, _"he _would _be suitable for leading ZAFT itself; and he might even take the post."_

Sparky shook his head. "That's not the way he operates, Miss Lacus. The Boss has always preferred the shadows; which you can tell just from the fact that the Earth Alliance was never sure of his true role in ZAFT." He shrugged. "But in any case, that sort of discussion should wait at least until we've reached Ame-no-Mihashira."

When that happened, the Shiva Option would be another step closer to completion.

* * *

Author's note: Orb has been nuked into virtual oblivion, while the _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ have fled to space; and Preybird, key to Ken's plan to stop GENESIS, has been virtually annihilated...

Meanwhile, _Arkbird,_ _Asmodeus,_ and _Eternal_ have broken away from the PLANTs, taking with them the remaining survivors of the original Gray Demons, as well as the Desert Tiger, and two members of the PLANT Supreme Council. With this group soon to be united in space, the war's end game is rapidly approaching...

I expect some of you will be rather puzzled by the time jump from the escape from Orb to the events in the PLANTs -and the events mentioned by Sparky; but never fear, those three days will be covered in the next chapter. I did things this way because I had a certain way I wanted to end the events dealing with the _Archangel_'s group, and this was the only way to achieve the desired effect.

I won't try to predict when the next chapter will be up -I'm going to be consumed by another RPG in the near future- but I'll do the best I can. Believe me, I'm as eager to get into the next chapter as anyone reading it. Till then, though, let me know how _this_ one was. -Solid Shark


	35. Chapter 35: View of the Rain

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Orbit, Near Ame-no-Mihashira, June 16th, C.E. 71

* * *

In the aftermath of the disastrous end to the Battle of Orb, in which the island nation had vanished in the fires of a nuclear holocaust, two ships rendezvoused in orbit. One was the former Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel;_ the other was the Orb Union _Izumo_-class _Kusanagi,_ which first needed to rendezvous with its own constituent parts. 

Hanging out in space with them were the ZGMF-X09A Justice and X10A Freedom, formerly ZAFT machines, now operated by pilots aligned with Ken DiFalco's breakaway faction of ZAFT. And between them, they towed the shattered hulk of the Grimaldi Falcon's X00A Preybird, which had been horribly damaged in the nuclear exchange.

Kira could only imagine what it must be like in Preybird's cockpit. Given that the machine's main hatch had been torn away, the only reason Ken could even still be alive was his own unique cockpit system, which had a pair of airtight crew modules. And even then... _He might not make it,_ Kira realized grimly. _That close to a nuke, with his main hatch gone... the radiation might be too much for him..._

Neither he nor Athrun could say what Ken's status was; they'd been unable to contact him since reaching orbit. That meant he was unconscious... or worse.

"What do you think, Kira?" Athrun called. "Do we take him to the _Archangel?"_

"Yeah," Kira answered. "He needs a doctor, I'm sure; and _Kusanagi_ doesn't have the facilities for Preybird's damage." He slowly shook his head. "Actually, I don't think the _Archangel_ does, either. A few parts are interchangeable with other ZGMF-X models, like Freedom and Justice, but so much of it is Ken's own, unique design..."

Athrun muttered something colorful under his breath. "That idiot," he added a moment later. "I don't know as much about what's going on as you do, but I've heard enough to know that the Commander's machine is our best -maybe only- hope of stopping GENESIS. He knows it, too. But he risked it all -and nearly _lost_ it all- because someone launched a nuke, and he went out for vengeance... which is exactly what he told _me_ a soldier has no business doing."

"I don't think it's that simple," Kira said slowly. "His Berserker state is more... capable, I guess, than ours, but it also makes him take insane risks. It's something Metzinger engineered into him, I think; and seeing a nuclear weapon go off for the first time since his 'failure' at Junius Seven must've hit him hard. But..." He paused. "You've got a point. He _should've_ known better, especially with that positron attack. He and I need to talk."

"Well," Athrun murmured, "that presupposes he's in any shape to talk in the first place."

"I know. Let's get him aboard."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Murrue Ramius sighed, rubbing her temples, as she contemplated the situation her ship and crew had just escaped. _And to think, when we first reached Orb we naively thought we'd have a chance to rest before getting on with the rest of the mission. Instead, we get handed a disaster like this..._

The entire crew was subdued. The nuclear attack on Orb had gone far beyond what they might've expected even the Earth Forces to do; though they had intellectually accepted the near-certainty of the Alliance taking revenge for the destruction of Morgenroete and the Kaguya mass driver, the sheer totality of it had been nothing short of horrifying.

And nearly losing the man who'd gotten them there in the first place...

She raised her head. "Any word on Ken?" she asked tiredly. "The last I'd heard, he was conscious..."

"Freedom and Justice just landed, Captain," Mir answered, after a brief check of her displays. "They brought Preybird with them." She winced. "Or, at least... what's _left_ of Preybird. It was... pretty bad, Ma'am. According to Kira, they haven't gotten any response from Ken since shortly after the nuclear detonations."

Murrue closed her eyes. _He's not dead,_ she told herself. _He can't be. The man's an idiot sometimes, but he knows as well as anyone how important he is to the success of the whole operation..._

Natarle broke the ensuing silence. "Captain," she said tentatively, "I can handle things here on the Bridge, if you'd like to confirm his status personally. Even I don't think we're likely to be in danger for the next few hours..."

The Captain shook her head. "No, Natarle; I couldn't possibly justify-"

"We're not in the military anymore, Murrue," the black-haired woman reminded her, using her first name for the first time. "We can afford to be a little more informal now, when not in a military situation; and there's no one aboard this ship who'd fault you for giving personal attention to Commander DiFalco. He's the one who was crazy enough to get us all involved in this in the first place, remember."

Murrue hesitated. "I..."

Sophia, at the rear of the Bridge, chuckled softly. "Go, Murrue. Leaving aside anything... personal... between the two of you, it really wouldn't be a bad idea for you to see what kind of shape he's in. That way, we can get an _accurate_ report, without any hyperbole from the mechanics. So go on; we'll hold the fort."

"Well..." Murrue closed her eyes for a moment, then glared at her old friend. "You know, Sophia, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to play matchmaker."

The Kestrel raised her eyebrows. "Me? Heaven forbid, Murrue. I'm just concerned about my little brother, is all, and I happen to think you're less likely to get your facts mixed up than Murdoch's whacked-out mechanics."

"That better be all it is..." Shaking her head in unwilling amusement, the Captain began to move toward the Bridge elevator. "You have the Bridge, Natarle," she called, and then paused. "By the way... how is Miss Cagalli?"

Natarle shook her head sadly. "I don't know. Miss Eldridge got her to her quarters, but deemed it better for her to be alone for now; at least until Kira's free."

"Yes, that makes sense... Well, I'll be in the hangar, if I'm needed."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

By the time Murrue arrived in the hangar, Kira and Athrun were floating next to Preybird's battered fuselage, where the hatch used to be, apparently discussing how to open the inner pilot module. 

The sight of the machine itself was enough to make her stomach clench. She'd heard it had been damaged, but this... The only weapon that had not been reduced to slag, as far as she could tell, was the Gerbera Straight, which was a testament to the blade's durability. Both rail cannons had been first shot, then ripped apart by the nuclear detonation; sizable chunks of both arms were gone, including the shoulders -and, with them, the beam boomerangs. The head was completely missing, as were seven of the ten wings; and of the wings that survived, only one had an even semi-intact DRAGOON unit.

And almost all of the machine's Phase-shift had been destroyed by the explosion.

"Oh, no..." Murrue swallowed, and propelled herself closer to the horribly mutilated mobile suit. "I knew that he'd suffered damage from the second nuclear missile, but I didn't realize..."

Kira nodded. "I know. Chief Murdoch doesn't think it can be fixed, either; at least not by the _Archangel._ So much of the technology is beyond anything we're familiar with... Leanne says even Ken wouldn't be up to the job; he was never much of a mechanical engineer. He designed them, others built them. She says we need Tom Delaney."

"And, at last word, _he's_ still in the PLANTs," Athrun said heavily. "For now, Preybird is no longer part of the equation."

"What about Falcon?" Dearka demanded, joining them. "He's still in there?"

"Yeah," Kira confirmed. "We're trying to figure out how to get him out of there; this is the first time I've gotten a good look at the cockpit, so..."

"We need Cagalli," Dearka murmured, almost to himself, "but she's... unavailable. Which means... the Commander, maybe?"

Murrue glanced at him. "You mean Mu?"

Buster's pilot shrugged. "Well, he _was_ Preybird's gunner, at Alaska; if anybody knows how to get this thing open, he will."

"You know, you shouldn't talk about me like I'm not here," Mu grumbled, drifting toward them. "So what's the problem? Haven't you got the kid out yet?"

Kira shook his head ruefully. "We haven't figured out how to open the cockpit," he admitted. "Back on Earth, he wouldn't even let _me_ near it; paranoid, I guess."

"Even paranoids have enemies," the Hawk reminded him, reaching into the cockpit. "And besides, the two of you haven't exactly been on the same page lately. He was probably afraid you'd find something in there that he didn't want you to see; maybe some new gadget he's got that's designed to kill people. Ah, here we go," he added, finding the appropriate control. "One cockpit module, opened up. Or should I say, 'Open Sesame'?"

Murrue spared the joke no attention, for the inner module obediently opened within seconds. To her relief, though Ken was clearly unconscious, he didn't appear to have suffered major injury; there wasn't even any sign of radiation burns on what little could be seen of his face.

Kira started to reach in and unstrap the unconscious pilot, but Athrun grabbed his shoulder, and shook his head minutely. "We can handle this, Kira," he said quietly. "You'd better go see Cagalli. I... think she needs you now, more than the Commander does."

Murrue nodded agreement. "Yes, Kira; we can take it from here."

The pilot hesitated a moment longer, but finally nodded. "I guess you're right... but I need to talk to him, when he's back on his feet." There was something in his eyes that Murrue wasn't sure she liked. "There's something we need to discuss."

Then he was gone, leaving the others to get Ken out of his seat.

"What was _that_ about?" Murrue asked Athrun, while Dearka undid the ace's straps. "I thought those two got along just fine."

Athrun shrugged unhappily. "Apparently, they did; but they... haven't been on the best of terms, the last couple days."

"I think Kira's problem is Falcon's little kamikaze attack," Mu added. "You know they don't agree on tactics; that death ride of his at the end there, ending with a satellite cannon shot, couldn't have gone over very well. I expect their 'discussion' might get a little loud."

She sighed. "Then we'd better make sure they don't even meet until Ken's recovered some. I don't know that he could handle it right now... not after the use of nuclear weapons." She shuddered to think what would be going on in his mind when he finally regained consciousness.

"All right, that's got it," Dearka announced. "Now, could somebody help me get this guy out of here?"

"Of course." Murrue reached into the cockpit and took one arm, while Dearka took the other, and they carefully pulled Ken out of the wreckage of his machine. "You think he'll be all right?"

The pilot shrugged. "I'm no doctor, but probably; I think it's mostly going Berserker that did this to him. I know he was conscious briefly afterwards, but..." He shrugged again. "So, where to? His quarters?"

She thought about that, but finally shook her head. "No, I don't think so; being alone probably wouldn't be very good for him right now, and, knowing Ken, he'll want to know exactly what the current situation is as soon as he wakes up. We'll take him to my office, and get him into a chair." She paused. "Oh, and, Mu? Have Doctor Hibson meet us there, please. He might not be in very bad shape, but I expect the Doctor will want him to take some anti-radiation medication, just to be safe."

Mu tossed off a jaunty salute. "You got it, Captain."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cagalli's Quarters

* * *

By the time Kira reached a certain hatch, all thoughts of his ruthless fellow pilot had been driven from his mind by a more important -in his mind, at least- matter. Ken had just killed hundreds of people... whereas Cagalli had just lost her father, who happened to be the only family she had left. 

Coming to a stop in front of the hatch, he hesitantly keyed the intercom. "Cagalli?" he called softly; as he'd unfortunately expected, there was no response.

_Now what?_ Kira wondered. _She shouldn't be alone right now; not after what just happened. But... how can I help her if I can't even _get _to her?_ The dilemma occupied him for several moments, considering the best way to approach the situation.

Finally, he shrugged. Lately, he'd disagreed more and more with his mentor's ideas, but in this case Ken's sort of solution was in order... and, fortunately, he had the means to pull it off. Months earlier, the ace had handed him a computer disc, filled with hacking programs and techniques, with the quiet observation that he "might find it useful someday".

_If today isn't that day, that day isn't going to arrive,_ Kira decided, and raised a hand to the keypad next to the door. Frowning for a moment in concentration, he remembered something from the disc, and tapped in a long, complex code; Ken had told him it was a general override code he'd implanted in the _Archangel_'s computers, for emergencies. _This probably isn't exactly what he had in mind, but..._

As he'd expected, Cagalli sat on her bunk, no longer sobbing, but still with tears on her face, and in the air around her. She didn't even look up when he entered; just stared off into space, as if unaware of his presence. It was enough to make his own heart ache.

"Cagalli?" Kira called again.

At the sound of his voice, she finally looked at him, eyes beginning to lose the blank, miserable look. "Kira...?" Her voice was cracked, as though from long disuse. "Kira..."

"I'm here," he said reassuringly. "Just like I promised." He reached out a hand toward her...

And the last surviving member of the royal family of Orb flung herself into his arms, sobbing.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Captain's Office

* * *

_One thing about freefall,_ Murrue thought to herself. _It makes it a lot easier to park an unconscious body._

Ken's limp form hung in one corner of the office, tucked out of the way, while they waited for him to come to. "He'll be up and around soon enough," Sophia remarked. "It's not the radiation that knocked him out; just the Berserker within."

Murrue nodded. "That's a relief. After what happened today, we need his input on where we're going from here. It's not as if we can't make up our own minds, of course; it's just that he's the only one who knows exactly when and how those two ships of his are going to join us."

"Yeah," Mu agreed with a sage nod. "Now, if we could just break him of the habit of keeping everything to himself, maybe we'd get somewhere."

"Good luck," Leanne Eldridge opined. "The Russians may've _invented_ institutional paranoia, but the Boss perfected it; he never tells anybody anything until they have the Need to Know. That's one reason the Earth Forces could never figure out exactly _what_ it was that he did, back when he was still in ZAFT." She paused, and snapped her fingers abruptly. "Oh, yeah... not to change the subject or anything, but I've got something here for you, Sophia." She dug into a pocket of her red uniform, and extended a computer disc to the Kestrel. "Lord Uzumi gave this to me, just before we launched. He said to take it to 'Commander DiFalco'; and while he was referring to the Boss, he also said that _you_ had the decryption keys."

Sophia took the disc, frowning. "Decryption keys? Why would I...?"

"He also said," the Gray Demon said in a level voice, "that if we needed more answers, we should go to Mendel... and the GARM facility."

The Kestrel went white. "You don't mean...?"

Leanne nodded. "That's exactly what I mean," she said evenly. "Doctor Ulen Hibiki... and _him."_

Murrue and Mu were now both giving the pair strange looks. "And just who," Murrue asked suspiciously, "is Doctor Ulen Hibiki?"

"He was a colleague of Doctor Metzinger," Sophia said carefully. "A pioneer in the field of genetic engineering; he invented the artificial womb that produced Falcon. And I'm pretty sure he's dead."

The Captain tilted her head. "And why," she began dangerously, "is this the first we're hearing of this? If this 'Hibiki' was connected to Ken's creation, why didn't you mention him before?" Her eyes narrowed. "And what do Hibiki and Mendel have to do with that disc?"

"It has to do with that disc because the disc has to do with Cagalli Yula Athha," Leanne told her. "And, therefore, with Kira Yamato." Her expression was just as much a mask as Ken's old look. "And that is _all_ that I'm going to say on the matter, Murrue."

Murrue's eyes were hard, gazing at the two pilots. "Just what is going on here? I think this is something we all need to know, you two."

"No," Sophia said firmly, shaking her head. "Not yet. I need time to analyze whatever's on that disc... and now is _not_ the time to open that particular can of worms. Frankly, I think the whole affair should stay buried the way it has for the last seventeen years; but failing that, this still isn't a good time. We're in the middle of a war, with no time to spare of matters like this."

"I think maybe Falcon should be the judge of that," Mu suggested, his own voice a touch frosty. "What we're doing is his plan, so he's in the best position-"

"Whatever this data is, it relates to him, too," Leanne cut him off. "Not only is there a conflict of interest, but it would be actively dangerous to us all to bring up the matter now."

The pilot's eyes were defiant, and Murrue could sense they weren't going to get anything more out of either of them at this point. "All right," she said at last. "We'll let it rest for now... but one of these days, you _will_ explain why you're conspiring to keep information from your own commander. Ken himself will insist on that, if nothing else... as you should well know."

"If the Boss gives me a direct order," the Demon said reluctantly, "I'll obey, and tell him everything. But I would prefer that situation not arise in the first place, so I would ask that you not tell him anything about this, at least until we've had time to analyze the data."

Before either Mu or Murrue could agree or disagree, a cough came from the corner, followed by a croaked, "Status report."

Murrue couldn't help but chuckle. _Awake for two seconds, and he already wants to know everything about whatever has gone on since he was knocked out. Typical._

Leanne had reflexively drawn herself to attention for an instant, and now drew a deep breath. "We're alive, for starters," she told her boss. "_Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ both made it to orbit intact, and we're currently on course for Ame-no-Mihashira."

Ken nodded, blearily planting his feet on the deck. "Good," he said quietly; judging from the haunted look in his eye, it wasn't just fatigue that made him so subdued. "And Preybird?"

Sophia winced. "Sorry, Bro; but it got hit pretty bad, in that explosion. It's still recognizable as a mobile suit, but that's about all I can say for it."

"And according to Murdoch, we don't have the capacity to repair it, either," Mu put in. "He can't even figure out what some of those gadgets _do,_ let alone how to fix them."

The ace shrugged. "I'm not surprised; we'll just have to wait for _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_ to make rendezvous. Until then, we're going where we need to be."

"And... where do we go from there?" Murrue asked.

Ken glanced at her. "Until those ships arrive, nowhere. Before we can plan our next move, we need those ships, spares for the Preybird, and the most recent intel Sparky and Tom can give us. In the meantime, we rest... and make Rondo Ghina Sahaku understand that if he tries anything to interfere with us, I _will_ cut off his head."

There was no doubt in her mind that the ace meant it literally. He'd only been awake for a couple of minutes, but she had already noticed a hardness about him... a barely-suppressed rage, perhaps. The Atlantic Federation's use of nuclear weapons had angered him to the core, and he clearly was _not_ about to permit anyone to get in his way.

There was also something else, barely discernible in his voice and manner... as if he blamed _himself_ for the nuclear attack?

_But that doesn't make sense,_ Murrue told herself. _He wasn't the one who gave Azrael the plans for the Neutron-jammer cancellers; and it certainly wasn't his fault that madman decided to exact a nuclear vengeance on Orb..._

There was no time to contemplate whatever was going on beneath the surface, however. The Grimaldi Falcon was now pacing -or attempting to, at least, given that it was zero-g- and clearly deep in thought. Sophia and Mu were both watching him with interest, wondering what would pop out of that brilliant brain next. Whatever his emotional problems, they clearly weren't affecting his mind any.

Finally, Ken stopped, shaking his head slightly. "We need to reach Ame-no-Mihashira," he murmured, almost to himself. "With Preybird out of action, we're in grave danger..."

"You know," Mu said dryly, "we're not exactly helpless without it. We've still got the Strike, Strike Rouge, Freedom, Justice, Buster, and Duel; not to mention a bunch of Astrays, and Ms. Hahnenfuss' CGUE DEEP Arms. I think we can hold our own in an emergency."

The ace looked at him sidelong. "And if the Alliance decides to chase after us with, say, the entire Sixth and Seventh Orbital Fleets?"

Sophia laughed. "He's got you there, Mu. Although," she added thoughtfully, "I'm not sure if Kira would allow the kind of intervention you're implying, little brother."

"Quite frankly," Ken said coldly, "I don't much care what Kira thinks right now. The Earth Alliance just forfeited any right to moderation or mercy, by launching those nuclear missiles."

Murrue felt a chill go trough her at those words. "You can't mean-" Visions of exploding lifepods went through her head, but the ace smiled slightly.

"I said no _mercy,_ Murrue," he said reassuringly. "Not no _quarter._ I won't shoot prisoners, or even lifepods... but I also won't go out of my way to give them the chance to abandon ship in the first place. When I shoot, I shoot to kill; in war, there's no such thing as a fair fight... and no such thing as overkill, if it means ensuring your own people stay alive."

"I don't know how Kira will react to that, Boss," Leanne warned. "I'm with you all the way; you know that. But Kira Yamato is an idealistic young fellow, and if he starts to think you're doing this out of vengeance, he might just take matters into his own hands."

Ken met her gaze levelly. "Let him," he said evenly. "I won't deny this is partly vengeance; but it's also a part of the Shiva Option, as we planned long before nuclear weapons entered the equation. And if Kira tries to interfere..." There was a cold light in his Prussian blue eye. "He's become an amazing pilot, but with the tactics he chooses, he'll never overcome Preybird."

Murrue had the chilling feeling that all was not well between the pilots on her ship.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hold, June 17th, C.E. 71

* * *

For the interim, until they could reach Ame-no-Mihashira -and rendezvous with _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_- Ken had taken over one of the _Archangel_'s holds, intended for spare parts for the two Moebius units it had never received, as a makeshift war room. Though he did not deign to share any of his thoughts with anyone, even Murrue, it appeared that he simply couldn't stand being unable to think about his next move. 

_He can't help it,_ Murrue mused, watching the strategist pace the large compartment, occasionally rubbing his eyepatch. _This war is absorbing him, little by little... If we can't end it soon, there'll be nothing left of him..._

That seemed evident now; as did the fact that the young pilot was fully accustomed to zero gravity conditions... or so she judged from the fact that his pacing took him up one bulkhead, across the deckhead, and down the opposite bulkhead. Freed from the constraints of the gravity he hated, he moved with a blithe disregard for up or down.

As Murrue watched the endless pacing with something akin to fascination -in full gravity, Ken might tire easily, but in space his energy seemed limitless- the hold's hatch opened... and Kira Yamato, a quiet and somber but controlled Cagalli on his arm, entered; his expression was almost as difficult to read as his mentor's.

Leaving Cagalli at the hatch, with a brief, reassuring smile, Kira started moving toward the ace. "Hey, Ken," he said; his tone set off warning bells in Murrue's mind. "I see you're awake."

Ken nodded. "Been awake for hours; and thinking on the situation ever since." He tilted his head. "And you, Kira, look like a man with something to say. I don't expect I'll like it; but then, I didn't like hearing about Patrick's plan to destroy Earth, either, but I survived it. So: what's up?"

"It's about your little attack on the Fourth Fleet, just before we left Orb," Kira answered. "You know, when that nuke went off, and you went nuts."

The ace nodded thoughtfully. "Ah yes. That. I expected you might have something to say on that matter. So please, elucidate."

The younger pilot complied.

_CRACK._

Murrue jerked in surprise, seeing Kira slap his mentor in the face; the sound it made was even louder than when Ken decked Sophia, the day he arrived on the _Archangel._ "Kira, what are you-"

"Just what were you thinking?" Kira demanded of the ace. "Your 'Shiva Option' is bad enough, but what you did down there was nothing but pure vengeance! How can you claim to hold the moral high ground when you pull a stunt like that, huh? You blew up hundreds of people-!"

As he spoke, his hand raised for another slap, but this time Ken saw it coming, and moved. Kira's speed was still faster than the ace expected, and so the blow didn't entirely miss... but rather than having the stinging effect he intended, it knocked aside the eyepatch.

And Kira found himself meeting the furious gaze of _two_ eyes; one normal... the other laced with silver, in a decidedly unsettling effect.

"Let me tell you something, Kira," Ken said in a low, dangerous voice. "You are not merely an idealist, but a _stupid_ one, as well. You have no idea of what I've seen in this war. No idea at all!" His hand shot out, and gripped Kira's collar. "You haven't watched your home blown up, vanished in nuclear fire, because you _missed!_ You haven't seen the person who means the world to you, already wounded in battle, burned away like a moth in a candle flame! _You haven't watched helplessly as eight of your best friends are picked off, one by one, and then incinerated by a Cyclops system!"_ There was real rage in Ken's eyes now, and his tirade slammed into Kira like a tsunami. "I went into Endymion Crater with twelve men, and _five_ of us came out alive! I lived in peace in Heliopolis for four months, before the project the _Earth Alliance _started, in a _neutral_ space colony, provoked Rau Le Creuset into blowing it all away! We were all at Alaska, too, remember? You were there when the _Alliance_ tried to kill us with another Cyclops system!" His grip was now so tight it was almost tearing Kira's collar off, and he still wasn't finished. "And one more thing _you_ don't have on your conscience: it wasn't _your_ escalation of the war that got Orb nuked, so shut your mouth, Kira Yamato, or I will shut it for you!"

Kira recoiled as though struck, stunned by the litany. He'd known most of it, of course -though the fact that the ace had lost someone close to him in the Bloody Valentine was something he _hadn't_ heard- but... _But I never thought to put it all together,_ he realized. _I never thought about the strain he must've been under even _before _he left ZAFT; and everything that's happened since..._

He opened his mouth to say something -in apology or sympathy, he wasn't sure- but Cagalli beat him to it. One part of that diatribe had hit close to home for her... and she wanted to act before the wound festered even more. "Don't say that, Ken," she said, as firmly as her current state allowed. "What happened to Orb... wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known-"

"Don't tell me that," Ken said softly, turning away and absently removing his eyepatch entirely. "I was such an idiot... I built Preybird to dominate the battlefield, to cope with any threat I could conceive of, including GENESIS itself. But GENESIS can only fire in one direction at a time, and there's a noticeable energy buildup before discharge that would alert me in time to dodge." He clenched a fist. "I did my job too well, partner," he hissed. "Nothing the Alliance had could stop it... and they _knew_ it. So Azrael, that bastard, decided to use nukes... in _reaction_ to Preybird's power."

"And that makes you responsible _how?"_ she demanded.

"It means _I_ provoked them into it," he said tightly. "It means _I_ killed your father. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself."

Cagalli felt a spasm of pain at the mention of her father's death, still an open wound for her, but she didn't let it stop her from stalking forward, grabbing the ace's shoulder, and spinning him around. "Now listen to me, Ken," she said harshly, meeting his agonized gaze, "what happened down there was _not_ your fault. My father... my father knew the risks, even before _you_ knew about the nukes. And what he told you then is still true now: this mission, this 'Shiva Option', _has_ to succeed. Whatever happened to Orb, we have to continue on if we want to stop that from happening to the entire planet... and Preybird is essential to that. You designed GENESIS; if you say Preybird is the only way you've found to stop it... then it was worth it, no matter the escalation you say it caused."

Ken closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You don't understand," he whispered. "Preybird _wasn't_ the only way I could think of to stop GENESIS."

That brought her up short. "What?"

Murrue felt her own eyes widen. "What are you talking about, Ken?"

The ace's fist clenched again. "Look, if there's one thing I know, it's weapon design; I originally trained as an engineer, and that was my specialty. That's how we all got into this mess in the first place. So I _know_ that, in actual fact, building a weapon to destroy GENESIS would be the easiest thing in the world."

"How?" Kira asked; it might've been a demand, but his tone indicated that he was genuinely curious. "How could that be easy?"

Ken looked at him. "Kira, if there's one thing humanity has never had any trouble doing, it's building a bigger, better bomb. And with nuclear powerplants, be they fission or fusion, have the energy output sufficient to generate useful amounts of antimatter; the _Archangel_'s pulsed-fusion plant proves that. Otherwise, the Lohengrin would be useless." He shook his head, as if realizing he was going more into the nuts and bolts of the matter than he needed to. "The point is, it would be child's play to build an antimatter bomb of sufficient size and power to wipe GENESIS from the universe." He started pacing again; and Murrue watched in fascination as he settled into lecture mode, his inner turmoil completely submerged beneath the engineer. "Another method, though it would take months, at the very least, would be to take one of the myriad resources asteroids -or even the old Artemis Base- accelerate it up to speed, and smash it into GENESIS; even if they've added Phase-shift, that much kinetic energy would overwhelm even that defense."

Kira and Cagalli both looked a little puzzled, but Murrue, having absorbed some engineering principles from her friend and Academy classmate Sophia, saw the flaw immediately. "But you'd be opening Pandora's Box," she murmured. "Either weapon would have as much potential -or perhaps even more- to destroy the entire planet, and the colonies with it."

"Yes," Ken whispered. "I considered it, though... yes, I thought about it. It would've been a quick solution to this madness; and the only casualties would've been the few ZAFT personnel actually manning GENESIS. People who should've known better, people who _know_ the destructive power of that weapon. But... the risk of an antimatter bomb getting into the hands of the Earth Forces, or a misdirected asteroid crashing into the planet; or, for that matter, pieces of one used on GENESIS scattering all over the globe..." He shook his head. "That's why I had Sparky and the others retrieve the canceled, half-built hulk of the _Arkbird,_ and resume construction at the Martius Three base. That's why I stole the blueprints for the _Archangel,_ and five of the original six G-weapons. I hoped to build a force of my own, in space, and not involve anyone else. The plans I made with Lord Uzumi were a fallback, never intended to be used; I didn't want _anyone_ else involved, because I feared the consequences." He raised his head, gazing for a moment at Cagalli. "Make no mistake: at the time, I regarded the world as one big strategic equation to be solved; using others as tools was part and parcel of the game. But that applied only to ZAFT and Earth Alliance forces; I didn't want neutrals involved at all."

"But then came Heliopolis," Kira said softly.

The ace nodded. "Exactly. Rau's attack that day shattered all my carefully-prepared models. By drawing the original _Archangel_ into the conflict, he introduced a new variable... and by introducing _you_ to the conflict, Kira, he changed the entire paradigm, and dealt a wild card into the deck."

"Oh, come on," the younger pilot protested. "I wasn't _that_ important-"

"Yes, you were," Ken said firmly. "To call you a prodigy would be doing you an injustice, Kira; your capabilities did not match _any_ theoretical model I've ever run. Your achievements on the battlefield were totally outside my experience, and didn't fit at all with what I'd seen, teaching ZAFT pilots." He paused in his pacing, and looked Kira right in the eye. "You considered yourself lucky, surviving the Endymion scenario I threw at you in the simulator. Back then, I kept my own opinion to myself; I wanted to see exactly what you could do, without influencing you at all. But I'll tell you now: I was astounded by your results."

Kira blinked. "Huh? But... why?"

"Kira," the ace said patiently, "by just surviving that scenario, you outdid over ninety percent of the pilots I've ever known. You even outperformed _me,_ you know that? You'd been in exactly two live-fire battles, and survived; when the battle actually occurred, I was a hardened veteran, and I _didn't_ survive. I was clinically dead until they put a new heart and lung in me. What you did... nothing I've seen, in two years of battle -during which I've gotten more combat experience than most pilots get in their entire careers- compares to what you're capable of."

Freedom's pilot stood frozen, trying to absorb what he'd just been told. _I knew I was good,_ he admitted to himself, _but I never thought of it _that _way before..._

"But," Ken went on briskly, "we're getting off-topic. The point I'm trying to make is this: when you -and _Archangel-_ were brought into the mix, all my carefully-laid plans had to be adjusted. With _Archangel_'s firepower, and your skill, involved, I could no longer expect to use my personal forces to achieve the Shiva Option. If you and the _Archangel_ remained with the Earth Forces, it was inevitable that we'd eventually come into conflict; and if that happened, my plans to end the war would be in ruins."

Murrue nodded in dawning comprehension. "All that time, before Alaska, you were working to get us on _your_ side, so that we wouldn't blow you out of space." She chuckled. "You know, I probably out to be offended that you were manipulating us; but, since it was for a good cause, I'll let it pass."

"Thank you," he said dryly. "At any rate, as you may've gathered by now, I was forced to play it all by ear; and while I'm normally good at improvisation, this time it backfired. I took a gamble, and it didn't work... so now, instead of a nice, neat solution to the whole thing, w now have to worry about the additional threat of nuclear weapons."

The other three took several moments to consider what had just been said -and another moment to reflect that Ken going into "lecture mode" was a good sign- before Cagalli finally spoke. "Maybe it was a calculated risk gone bad," she said slowly, "and maybe -_maybe-_ Preybird is why Azrael used nuclear weapons. _But,"_ she went on, capturing his gaze, "I don't see what choice you had. If the alternative to that machine was weapons even more devastating than GENESIS itself, I don't see what else you could've done. Even Kira-" she gave the pilot a fond glance then; and it became evident to both Murrue and Ken that neither was bothering to hide anything anymore "-will admit that, whatever problems there might be with your methods -and I'm not sure there _are_ any- GENESIS has to be stopped. And it looks to _me_ like Preybird is the _least_ destructive way to do that."

"She's right," Kira agreed. "I still don't approve of how you intend to _get_ there... but GENESIS, and what Zala wants to do with it, are even worse than anything in _your_ Shiva Option."

"Thanks, you guys," Ken said wearily, a slight smile forming. "I-"

_"Murrue, Falcon,"_ an intercom speaker suddenly said, in Natarle's voice, _"we're coming up on Ame-no-Mihashira. I think perhaps you should both get up here. If you're not busy, that is,"_ she added, in a tone that sounded suspiciously teasing.

Murrue punched a button on the panel. "We'll be right up, Natarle; and despite what you might think, all we were doing was having a... philosophical discussion. So you can quit the... speculation; and if I hear Murdoch's mechanics spreading any more rumors, I'll have him spaced."

Ken looked at her sharply. "Rumors?" he said; his voice was dangerously devoid of emphasis.

"Nothing you need to worry about," she assured him. _And besides; from what Dearka's said about how his last girlfriend died, I think Murdoch would be summarily beheaded if someone is stupid enough to tell Ken what those crazy mechanics are saying..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Coming up on Ame-no-Mihashira, Ma'am," Neumann reported, as Ken and Murrue entered the Bridge. "Right on schedule." 

The Captain nodded. "Thank you, Arnold. ETA for zero/zero intercept?"

"At present deceleration, three minutes."

Ken nodded to himself. "Good; I don't want to spend any more time out here than necessary. I feel too exposed out here, especially after the nuclear attack."

"Agreed," Murrue murmured. "It was one thing one the way _to_ Earth; but back then, we still had the Alliance out there to support us. Now they'd be just as happy as ZAFT to blast us out of space." She frowned, looking at the forward displays. "Wait; aren't those Earth Forces units out there...? That looks like some variation of the Calamity..."

"That's a GAT-X133 Sword Calamity, Captain Ramius," Alicia Cateau informed her, entering the Bridge. "Probably assigned to Edward Harrelson; I heard rumors about it while still with the Fourth Fleet. It's equipped with a scaled-down Scylla multiphase energy cannon in the chest, two Panzer Eisen rocket anchors, two Midas Messer beam boomerangs, and a pair of Schwerht Gewehr antiship swords. Essentially a combination of the Calamity and Sword Strike designs."

"Its presence is hardly unexpected," Ken murmured. "We knew Sahaku was doing deals with the Earth Alliance; that probably isn't the only Alliance machine they have here."

Murrue glanced at him. "I do hope you included this possibility in your planning? Because if you chose this plan to prove you're fallible, it really isn't a good time..."

The ace smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Murrue. I took this into account; Lord Uzumi and I were very thorough in our contingency planning."

"And what, exactly, is the plan to keep them from selling us out to the Earth Forces?" Natarle asked. "I hope it didn't involve Preybird... seeing as it's so much scrap metal right now."

He shook his head. "No, not Preybird; I prefer not to advertise its presence unless absolutely necessary. No, I simply intend to meet with Rondo Sahaku in person, and... convince him that treachery would be a less than sensible course of action."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, I'm not sure I want to know how you intend to 'convince' him, Ken. Is this something where I want plausible deniability?"

Ken chuckled. "Murrue, I'm not stupid; I know that causing Sahaku bodily harm _would_ get the Alliance called in against us. Therefore, I'm going to take a... subtler approach." He frowned then himself. "Hm; I'd have expected them to make contact by now. We're expected, of course... but I wouldn't expect Sahaku to be this blasé about the whole affair."

As if on cue, Flay spoke up from Communications. "We're being hailed by the station, Captain; they wish to know our intentions."

Murrue glanced at the ace. "You want to take this one, Ken?"

He shook his head. "No, Murrue; that's your job. I agreed that you'd remain captain. I may be in overall command of this three-ring circus, but I have no intention of usurping your authority."

_Interesting way of putting it._ "Very well. Flay, please put them through."

A moment later, a man in Orb uniform appeared on the main monitor. _"This is Lieutenant Archer, Ame-no-Mihashira control. Identify yourselves, and state your intentions."_

Murrue cleared her throat. "I'm Captain Murrue Ramius, of the True ZAFT Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel._ In convoy with us is the Orb _Izumo_-class transport _Kusanagi,_ on loan to the True ZAFT Forces. Having escaped the attack on Orb, on Lord Uzumi Nara Athha's orders, we're here to seek safe harbor, until the other ships of our organization have rendezvoused with us."

The Orb lieutenant tilted his head. _"I see. And may I ask who is in charge of your presumptive task force?"_

At a nod from Murrue, Ken stepped forward. "That would be me, Lieutenant Archer. My name is Commander Kenneth DiFalco, commanding officer of the True ZAFT breakaway organization. I believe you'll find that our visit here is prearranged; therefore, in accordance with those arrangements, we request permission to dock in your harbor."

Archer glanced away from the screen, clearing checking information on another computer terminal, before finally looking up. _"Your schedule has indeed been logged with us, Commander; I see you're a punctual sort."_

"I try."

_"Very well, then. _Archangel, Kusanagi, _you're cleared to dock. Also, Commander Sahaku requests that you pay a visit to his office, once you're docked."_

"Tell him we'll be there," Ken responded.

_"Thank you."_

When the officer's image had vanished, Cagalli -who, along with Kira, had entered during the exchange- snorted. "_Commander_ Sahaku? Rondo's been putting on airs since the last time I saw him."

Ken shook his head in mild disgust. "That's one reason I'm glad the PLANTs haven't gone in for a hereditary aristocracy: far too many noblemen start to believe that they really _are_ superior to the 'commoner', simply because they happened to be born into the 'right' family."

She sighed. "I'd like to disagree with you... but there's no denying that that's _exactly_ how the Sahakus feel. Same for the Seirans."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"So," Murrue said, breaking in, "who goes to this meeting? Sounds like it'll be fairly important, so perhaps we'd best present a strong front."

Ken nodded. "Agreed. I think we should keep it fairly small -no sense making Rondo feel outnumbered until he really is- so I'd say... you and I, Cagalli, Kira, and Colonel -excuse me, _Captain_ Kisaka." He rubbed his eyepatch thoughtfully. "We should leave the other pilots here, in case something drastic should occur; and it's probably not a good idea to bring Lieutenant Cateau with us. Given the presence of Earth Forces units, that might not be the most diplomatic thing we could do."

"Agreed," Cateau said sourly. "Besides, I wouldn't trust myself not to shoot the first one I see; rotten bastards."

Cagalli suppressed a chuckle at the woman's acid tone; to her surprise, she actually kind of liked the ex-Alliance pilot... which might've had something to do with the fact that, despite having been with the Earth Forces only days earlier, she hated them with a passion.

Of course, "diplomatic exclusions" brought something else to mind, and Cagalli frowned. "I hate to say this," she said slowly, "but are you sure it would be a good idea to bring Kira along? I mean, it's, um, pretty obvious we're, uh... together now... and I don't think Rondo would-"

"I don't care what Sahaku thinks," Ken informed her coldly. "And if you're the same Cagalli Yula Athha who used to be my gunner, partner, neither do you. If he objects, that's his lookout; and if he tries anything untoward, I can and will shoot him dead."

Cagalli and Kira both blinked, while Murrue frowned thoughtfully; the words might've been light, but the tone was deadly serious. "Ken," she said slowly, "I'm sure you _could_ do it... but are you sure it would be a good idea? We _are_ outnumbered..."

"I wouldn't do it unless he provoked me sufficiently," the ace assured her. "But if he does, I _will_ do it... and in just a few days, we'll have at least two more warships on our side, along with their attached mobile suits. Maybe more; I know Sparky was thinking of taking the _Eternal,_ if he could find a way to pull off hijacking her."

Natarle raised an eyebrow. "The _Eternal?"_

"First ship of the class the _Arkbird_ is -technically- the prototype for. She's specifically designed to support the Freedom and Justice, and is equipped with METEOR units intended to provide those two machines with additional firepower. They can also be used as turrets, while still attached to _Eternal;_ so obtaining that ship would be quite a coup for us."

She nodded thoughtfully. "And it would bring us up to five ships, and... how many mobile suits?"

"Nine X units," Ken said after a moment of thought, "counting the pair aboard _Asmodeus._ Four GuAIZ units on _Arkbird;_ six aboard _Asmodeus._ Shiho's CGUE DEEP Arms; Sophia's M1A, a dozen M1s on the _Kusanagi_, and the three from _Hades_ we're carrying. A total of thirty-six machines; not bad, when you think about it."

Murrue blinked. "That would give us quite the force; especially considering that we're on our own out here." Then she frowned. "But what X models are on the _Asmodeus?_ You haven't mentioned that before."

"You never asked," he said simply; earning him a brief glare from Cagalli. "Anyway, one of them is the Raiden; it's a copy of Sahaku's Gold Frame AMATU, as it happens, except equipped with full PSA, a Neutron-jammer canceler, and a nuclear reactor."

The princess looked at him curiously. "And where, exactly, did you get the data on the AMATU?"

"I hacked it, of course." Ken smiled briefly. "Amazing the information you can get out of computers, if you just know how to ask."

"So what's the other unit?" Kira prodded. "You mentioned two."

"Ah, yes. The other is based on plans I stole from the Eurasians, while we were at Artemis. CAT1-X4/4 Hyperion, the first Eurasian X model; I gather they wanted to prove that they didn't actually _need_ the Atlantic Federation to hold their own in this war. Unfortunately, the Eurasians were unable to duplicate the Atlantic Federation's Phase-shift armor, so they instead went with three scaled-down light-wave barriers, one on each arm, and one mounted on the back. Unlike Preybird's -which is modeled after the arm units- Hyperion's back-mounted barrier is all-aspect, giving it formidable defensive capabilities... at the expense of ruinous drain on the machine's battery." The ace smiled; it was not a friendly expression. "I, on the other hand, took some... liberties with the design. In addition to Phase-shift, Hyperion Unit Four is equipped with an NJC, permitting extended use of the light-wave barrier; the only limitation, really, is the fact that the energy demands are great enough to cause a core meltdown, if used for too long at a time."

"Impressive," Murrue said faintly. "And who is the pilot?"

"As a matter of fact... I intended the machine for Sophia." Ken smiled slightly. "I thought she might approve of it."

"I'm sure she will," Cateau put in. "And if she has any trouble with it, I can probably give her some pointers; I was a test pilot for the design, once we got a proper Natural-adapted OS set up."

"Ahem," Natarle interjected. "This is all very fascinating, but I believe you have an appointment to keep, Murrue, Falcon?"

Murrue chuckled. "Yes, of course; besides, we wouldn't want to spoil Ken's reputation for punctuality, now would we?" She stood. "You have the Bridge, Natarle."

* * *

Ame-no-Mihashira, Corridor

* * *

A lieutenant by the name of Wellington escorted the five from the True ZAFT faction through Ame-no-Mihashira; and as they made the journey, Ken was given time to think. 

Besides finding their guide's name amusing -not only did the man have no relation to the general whose name he shared, but he also, judging from his rumpled uniform, had not the slightest trace of disciplined military brilliance- he also found time to note the changed relationship between his protégé and former gunner.

Whatever it was, it was subtle; yet Cagalli's words on the _Archangel_ indicated that neither was bothering to hide their feelings any longer, even from themselves. _I wonder what's changed,_ Ken mused. _There doesn't seem to have been anything spoken between them about it... but then, between those two words are rarely necessary. They're like two halves of a whole; one always seems to know what the other is thinking._ He sighed mentally. _I... I envy them,_ he admitted to himself. _Once, I knew exactly how they felt..._

But those days were long past, now. Laura Elsman had died in the Bloody Valentine, and he still hadn't recovered from her loss. Every day, it ate at him, a never-ending pain from a day over fourteen months in the past, yet still so fresh... There were some -some who didn't know his past- who wondered why he never allowed himself to enter into any kind of relationship beyond friendship; those who had such thoughts were unaware of both his loss, and how he'd grown up. How he'd spent his childhood _knowing_ that his parents were not _really_ his parents... and they never even told him.

Trust... It was something that he'd always found hard to come by. It had taken him over a week to truly begin to trust the _Archangel_'s crew, and even then, he hadn't entrusted them with the reasons for his desertion from ZAFT. That was a secret known only to his own Gray Demons; he refused to entrust members of the Earth Forces with any more information than was absolutely necessary... until Alaska.

Only after the Battle of Alaska had the Grimaldi Falcon been truly able to open up to them. Part of it, as he'd admitted, had been operational security; the rest was the simple fact that he found it hard to trust _anyone._ Hard to feel anything more than friendship, when the family he'd known had never truly been his... and when the girl he'd loved had been so callously murdered by the Earth Alliance when they used nuclear weapons to destroy the colony where he'd been born.

And because of that loss, on February Fourteenth, C.E. 70, he knew he'd never again experience what Kira and Cagalli shared...

* * *

Ame-no-Mihashira, Rondo Ghina Sahaku's Office

* * *

Ken's first sight of Rondo Ghina Sahaku, standing behind his desk, did not impress him in the slightest. The man wore flowing robes... and an expression that said all too clearly that he had a high opinion of himself. And, for that matter, a _low_ opinion of "commoners". 

Being a commoner himself, by Sahaku's standards, the ace would've been just as happy to wipe the arrogant expression off the man's face.

"So," Sahaku began, "you're the people Athha informed us we should expect. My name is Rondo Ghina Sahaku; and you would be Commander Kenneth DiFalco, correct? The so-called 'Grimaldi Falcon'?"

"That's right," Ken said evenly. "And my companions are Murrue Ramius, Captain of the _Archangel,_ Colonel Ledonir Kisaka -whom I presume you know- commanding the _Kusanagi;_ Kira Yamato, our best pilot; and, of course, you should recognize Cagalli."

Sahaku nodded. "Yes; Athha's daughter. We've met." He tilted his head, noting the way Cagalli and Kira stood together, and his upper lip curled in a sneer. "It's fairly obvious what Mr. Yamato's relationship with the princess is; though how she could lower herself to being with a mere commoner, I don't..."

Cagalli's eyes blazed, and she stalked around the desk... and slapped Sahaku in the face. "Just what business is it of _yours,"_ she demanded hotly, "who I-!"

"Calmly, Cagalli, calmly," Ken murmured, as the noble recoiled from the blow, surprise in his eyes. "Hitting the man won't help our cause any..."

Still radiating rage, she stared at Sahaku a moment longer, then reluctantly returned to their side of the desk, muttering under her breath.

The ace had the feeling he didn't _want_ to know what she was calling Sahaku.

Meanwhile, the man had managed to recover his poise. "I'll forgive you that," he said, carefully controlling his voice, "since, with the recent death of your father, you're undoubtedly distraught. However, I would appreciate it if you reign in your temper for the remainder of this meeting." He returned his attention the ex-ZAFT commander. "You know, Commander, I'm actually surprised to see your face here. It's not often one such as you shows his face in a location that obviously has close ties to the Earth Alliance."

"I didn't have much choice," Ken responded. "We need a safe haven... and besides, I know your reputation, Sahaku. You have no more loyalty to the Alliance than I did before Alaska. You'd only sell us out if it became expedient... which, I assure you, it won't."

"And what makes you think I'll permit you to stay here at all?" Sahaku asked. "I might not give you to the Earth Forces; but I can assure _you_ that I have no interest in harboring Athha's daughter _or_ ZAFT forces. Both, as I'm sure you understand, are hindrances to me."

"I'm sure," the ace said dryly. "Just as I'm sure you feel no obligation to honor the arrangements Lord Uzumi made before his death."

"Obviously. I consented to harbor the refugees of Orb, of course; there is little point in ruling even a rebuilt Orb, if all its people vanished in the same nuclear fire that has so crippled the nation. But dealing with your splinter faction is another matter entirely."

It was time for Murrue to speak up; she _was_ captain of the _Archangel,_ after all, so she couldn't simply let Ken handle _everything._ "Excuse me, Commander," she began, "but I fail to see what your problem is. We intend to stay only for a few days, until our own repairs have been completed, and we can move on to another location."

"I don't care what the duration is," Sahaku said dismissively. "Frankly, I wouldn't object if both of your ships were destroyed by an Earth Forces task force; as I'm sure you realize, it would cause me no problems at all."

"That's because you're a traitor to your own country," Kira said tightly. "How can you lower yourself to help those who used _nukes_ on your own homeland?"

"Hmph. I wouldn't expect a mere commoner like you to understand. But I might point one thing out to you, boy: it was Commander DiFalco's presence, and Athha's policies, that provoked that attack. What Azrael did was regrettable, but... Well, we must all make deals with the devil from time to time, wouldn't you say?"

Kira glared; and Ken felt his own temper threatening to break free. _This pompous bastard,_ he thought to himself. _He's threatening everything we've worked for, all because _he _wants to take over the world... and he doesn't even _realize _how close I'm coming to cutting off his head!_

Sahaku had fallen silent for a time, obviously considering his next move, and now he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid that your continued presence here would, at the least, constitute an unacceptable cause of friction with the Earth Forces. Therefore..."

Ken DiFalco was normally a patient man. A _very_ patient man, in fact. But less than two days before, he'd watched an entire country be destroyed by nuclear weapons, and, despite Cagalli's words to the contrary, he still held himself responsible for it.

So when Sahaku so callously dismissed what had happened, and threatened the mission he'd dedicated his life to...

Before the next word came out of Sahaku's mouth, Ken's sword was out, and he was leaping over the desk, forgetting all about diplomacy. Before the stunned nobleman could even begin to react, Griever was at his throat, and the ace began to speak in a low, threatening voice. "Now listen to me, Sahaku," he hissed, "and listen good. We are _going_ to remain at Ame-no-Mihashira for at least the next two days. We are _going_ to take a brief time to relax... and you are _not_ going to sell us out to the Earth Forces."

Despite the pressure of the blade against his throat, Sahaku managed a mocking smile. "And just how are you going to ensure _that,_ DiFalco?"

"Simple. If you betray us, I'll cut off your head, and hang the consequences. And two..." Ken returned the smile... and his expression was far uglier. "In two or three days, at least two -possibly three- additional ships are going to arrive at this station. When they join with us, that will provide us with a force great enough to threaten even you and your Alliance allies. So I suggest you not try anything funny... got it?" Griever came away abruptly, sliding back into its sheath. "The only reason I'm not killing you now is because deflating your bloated ego isn't worth sullying my blade with your filthy blood."

Leaving a very surprised Sahaku behind him, he stalked back to the office's door, his companions falling in around him. "You know, Ken," Cagalli said softly, barely suppressing laughter, "I'm not sure you're the best guy to be talking about deflating egos."

"Oh, shut up..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, June 20th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Well," Murrue murmured, "this little truce has certainly lasted longer than I'd feared. I guess you put the fear of God -or maybe Griever- into, after all." 

Ken nodded absently. It had been three days now, with no sign of Sahaku attempting treachery. The crews of both _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ still avoided going into Ame-no-Mihashira itself any more than they had to, but when they did, the Orb personnel there were cordial enough.

"Yes," the ace said at last. "It appears I did. Fortunate; we're in no condition to fight a major fleet engagement. Or even a minor one, when you think about; we've only the two ships, and the only mobile suit we have that's truly designed to take on entire fleets is still badly damaged."

Murrue nodded in understanding. "So Murdoch's people still haven't made any progress?"

"No; and it's not really surprising. _Archangel_ was set up to service GAT-X machines. And while it can handle the basic needs for Freedom and Justice, Preybird is well outside the parameters Morgenroete anticipated when it designed this ship."

Almost as though the mention of ships had triggered it, Sai glanced up from his place in CIC. "Three ships detected, Captain," he reported. "One appears to be an... an _Archangel_-class; the other two are not in the catalogue at all."

Murrue glanced at the ace. "Would that be...?"

"Probably." Ken pulled himself up to Flay's console. "Hail them, Flay; if this is who I think it is, we'll be fine... and we'll finally be able to move on."

"Right."

A moment later, the face of a large, white-uniformed man with a constant, pronounced tic in his right cheek appeared. He wore a huge grin... which, Ken decided, was only fair. _"Hello, Boss,"_ Captain Lance "Sparky" Cooper greeted. _"Long time no see."_

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has arrived at Ame-no-Mihashira, for some much-needed rest... and the final elements of the True ZAFT faction have finally united with them. Soon, the end game will begin... and the war will reach a bloody new height... 

This chapter, I do believe, is up a little faster than they have been lately; a nice change. It would've been even faster than this, but it ended up a little longer than I expected.

Next up is the Mendel sequence; which will, among other things, include another Astray cameo. Things are beginning to heat up, and the answers to several of the mysteries I've left strewn throughout are coming soon. In the meantime, though, let me know if this chapter was any good. -Solid Shark


	36. Chapter 36: Demons United

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

_Arkbird,_ Hangar, June 20th, C.E. 71

* * *

Murrue Ramius had originally suggested that the captains of the three new arrivals come to the _Archangel,_ but Ken had diffidently pointed out the _Arkbird_ had a dedicated war room... and, given that their small organization was now functioning as much as a high command as a task force, she had to agree the idea had merit.

So the _Archangel_'s launch had delivered them to the smaller ship's hangar, which already contained shuttles from _Kusanagi,_ _Eternal,_ and _Asmodeus._ From the former Earth Forces ship came Murrue, Ken, Kira, Cagalli, Mu, Sophia, and their other ZAFT pilots, Leanne, Athrun, Dearka, and Yzak. Also accompanying them was Alicia Cateau, their resident expert on Earth Forces' secret projects.

Before Ken could even get a word out to his subordinates, Yzak, Dearka, and Athrun caught sight of a familiar face. "Nicol!" Yzak called. "So you really _are_ alive!"

Nicol Amalfi, a jagged scar on his left cheek, grinned. "That's right, guys. What, don't tell me you didn't believe Commander DiFalco?"

"Being told you're alive is one thing, Nicol," Dearka informed him. "Besides, Falcon's been known to... stretch the truth, from time to time. Even when I _do_ believe him, I can't help feeling kind of like he isn't telling the whole truth, you know?"

"Probably because he usually isn't," Athrun muttered. "It's good to see you, Nicol... but, ah, where's Lacus?"

The question answered itself almost immediately. "Athrun!" the "pink princess" called. She was at the entrance to the hangar when she started the word, but by the time she'd finished, she'd catapulted herself across the deck, and slammed into the pilot. "It's so good to see you, Athrun!"

"Well," Murrue said with a chuckle, "I guess one introduction is pretty superfluous, hm?" She looked back toward the hatch, where are a large man in ZAFT white was arriving. "So you'd be Captain Cooper, I take it? Ken's said a lot about you."

Sparky smiled, and held out a hand. "I'm sure he has; I can tell that just by how you refer to him. I don't think I've ever heard anyone call him that before." He jerked his head toward the gray-haired youth in red, who entered just behind him. "This is Captain Tom Delaney, former Gray Demon, and Captain of the _Asmodeus._ As the Boss has probably told you by now, he did the heavy lifting with the constructing both these ships and the Preybird."

"He has," Mu confirmed. "So, ah... who's the captain of that other ship? The _Eternal,_ I think you called it? I haven't seen..."

"That would be me, Commander La Flaga," a new voice responded... and every eye from _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ turned to stare in shock.

_"Andrew Waltfeld?"_ Kira said, in a strangled whisper.

"And I'm Aisha," the black-haired woman behind the one-armed, one-eyed man introduced; she had a scar of her own, across the bridge of her nose, but it was much fainter. "Good to see you again, Mr. Yamato."

"But..." Ken cleared his throat, bestowing a brief glare on his subordinates. "But you, ah, died, if you'll pardon a statement of the obvious."

"Very nearly," the woman agreed. "But I guess Andy here is just too stubborn to die, and I couldn't let him go on without me, now could I?"

"Remember this, kid," Waltfeld told Kira. "Drink the right blend of coffee, and you can survive anything. You might lose an arm and a leg, but at least you'll be alive."

Murrue shook her head. "It appears," she said, feeling slightly bewildered, "that we have much to discuss. Ken, I believe you said this ship has a dedicated war room?"

The ace nodded. "Right; follow me."

* * *

_Arkbird,_ War Room

* * *

"It's hard to believe," Tom mused a few minutes later, "that we're all together now. After all the time it took to get here... it's like a dream."

"You had an advantage over us, believe me, Captain Delaney," Murrue assured him. "At least _you_ people knew from the start what Ken was up to. _We_ didn't have the slightest idea until after Alaska. He wouldn't tell anyone... and he almost didn't tell us about GENESIS even _after_ we joined his crazy scheme."

"Don't feel bad, Captain Ramius," Waltfeld told her. "I didn't know about it right away, either."

"No one did," Siegel Clyne put in; he'd been waiting for them when they arrived in the large compartment, along with Yuri Amalfi. "I gather that, until after Spit Break, only the Gray Demons themselves knew. A security precaution, I suppose."

"That's exactly what it was," Ken agreed. "Partly, anyway; I must confess that I don't like talking about my blunders... particularly when they have the potential to wipe out the entire human race."

"We've noticed," Cagalli said with a chuckle; and then she frowned. "Say... aren't we missing some people?"

"Yzak, Dearka, and Athrun went off to catch up with Nicol... and, in Athrun's case, Miss Lacus," Amalfi assured her. "They probably have a lot to talk about. As for Commanders La Flaga and DiFalco -er, I guess that would be Mu and Sophia now; True ZAFT doesn't use ranks- they went to the _Asmodeus,_ to pick up the Hyperion."

"Though, of course," Tom said with a smile, "nobody's told them _what_ it is yet."

"They don't care," Sparky rumbled. "They will, when they see it; but for now I think they just want to be as far away from the planning as possible. Something about letting us do the heavy thinking, I think."

Ken shrugged. "Fine; I can discuss it with them later, make sure I didn't miss anything, but for now, why don't we get started."

"Why don't we," Murrue agreed. "You know, you've been awfully vague about how exactly you intend to pull off this mission, even after you finally explained what it was in the first place. Care to enlighten us, now that all the pieces have arrived?"

"I didn't go into detail because even I was unsure of the details until now; there were too many variables in the strategic equation." The ace moved to the aft bulkhead, and tapped out commands on a control panel. Instantly, a circle in the center of the largely unadorned compartment lit up, projecting a holographic map of Earth nearspace. "All right. The first problem, as you might expect, is where to take ourselves. We obviously can't stay at Ame-no-Mihashira -I don't trust Sahaku not to try anything; though if he were removed from the equation, I have some hope for his sister- so we've mapped out two alternate sites. Sparky?"

The big captain nodded, and reached into the hologram. "First," he rumbled, "is Lagrange point Four; specifically, this colony group." Motion sensors registered his movement, and the image zoomed in on a colony cluster. "What we have here are several colonies ZAFT surveyed recently; what we -and that includes our own, private efforts- discovered was that quite a few of the L4 colonies still have functioning life-support systems. Plenty of air for us, and even some remaining rotation, giving us artificial gravity. Also, given the haste with which they were abandoned during the Yggdrasil battles last year, many of their resources remain intact; sufficient water to last us months, and even preserved food. Can't say the diet would be very interesting, but at least we wouldn't starve."

"Actually," Cagalli offered, "Leanne's a pretty good cook; if you can believe her, she can make an edible meal even out of emergency rations."

Sparky raised an eyebrow. "I knew she could cook, but she must use black magic to make e-rats palatable. Brr."

Murrue frowned thoughtfully. "So, you're saying that we could scavenge the L4 colonies effectively for the duration of the war, and use them as shelter? I guess it makes sense; there are enough of them, and they're large enough, that it would take the combined efforts of the Alliance and ZAFT to effectively search them. We could remain hidden for months, if we had to."

"Right," Ken agreed. "And our Alpha Site is right here: the Mendel colony."

"But Mendel was abandoned due to a biohazard threat," Kisaka protested. "I would think going there would be too dangerous."

The ace shook his head. "No; the X-ray bombardment that was used to sterilize it was successful. I suspect the only reason it was never repopulated was the growing threat of war between Earth and the colonies. Assuming, that is, that Leanne's survey was correct."

Sparky and Tom exchanged indecipherable glances, before the bigger man nodded reluctantly. "It was," he confirmed. "But there's one additional complication: according to more recent data, the Serpent Tail mercenary organization is holed up there right now, which could make things... difficult."

"Hmm..." Ken rubbed his eyepatch. "Perhaps so; but I think I can handle that, when the situation arises. I've never met Gai Murakumo, but I suspect we would understand each other. He may be a mercenary, but he understands people like me." He shrugged. "In any case, we can cross that bridge when we come to it. Meanwhile... Bring up the Beta Site."

Sparky nodded, and the image zoomed out again. This time, it settled on a location on the Moon itself... on the dark side, in fact, within a canyon perhaps a hundred kilometers from the former ZAFT base in Lorentz Crater.

Murrue frowned. "I don't recognize that location; and wouldn't that be too close to Alliance territory? They've had complete control of the Moon ever since..."

"Ever since the Battle of Endymion," Ken confirmed. "But they don't pay much attention to the dark side anymore... and even if they ever knew the location to begin with, they'd have every reason to believe this place is unusable."

Kira inhaled sharply, realizing just which canyon that was. "Hey, isn't that...?"

"The location of the Gray Demons' Eyrie," Ken said quietly. "Where we were stationed until the Battle of Endymion."

"But that base was destroyed," Cagalli protested. "You told me you set the self-destruct charges yourself, didn't you?"

"I did," he agreed. "But the purpose wasn't to completely eradicate all traces of the base. All we needed to do was destroy the equipment we couldn't move out, and any records we might've missed. The base's internal structure is still sound, and it would be a relatively simple matter to repair and re-pressurize it."

"That still leaves the problem of the ships," Murrue pointed out. "They're a little harder to hide... especially since there's five of them."

"If need be, we could split our forces," Ken answered, "and deploy both to the Alpha and Beta locations. That would actually have one advantage: fewer nuclear reactors concentrated in one place; the thermo-patterns from those have concerned me from the start. In fact, if it weren't for the enormous endurance and firepower advantage it gives us, I probably wouldn't have used them in anything besides the three ZGMF-X units. As it is..." He shrugged. "In any case, it shouldn't come to that in this case. The Eyrie had an attached harbor, which should still be largely intact; if memory serves, there's sufficient room for two, possibly three of the ships. Also, the canyon itself would probably suffice to hide the others. As I said, the Earth Forces don't pay much attention to the dark side of the Moon these days."

She nodded thoughtfully. "So at least we have somewhere to go; that just leaves our objective. Your Shiva Option is aimed at ending the war, right?"

"Indirectly, yes," he agreed. "But really, ending the war is a side effect; something that will almost certainly happen in the course of completely the _primary_ objective. Sparky," he said, "call up the updated specs for GENESIS. I haven't yet had time to examine them myself."

"Got it, Boss." Sparky tapped in commands, and the now-familiar dish shape appeared, replacing the space map. "Here it is."

Ken nodded. "All right," he mused, examining both the image and the structural details outlined in glowing letters alongside it. "Gamma Emission by Nuclear Explosion Stimulus Induction System; the weapon originally intended as a Fleet Action Countermeasure, and now being constructed as doomsday machine..."

"Ominous looking thing," Cagalli remarked. "For a giant mirror, it looks... evil, somehow. No offense," she added hastily, remembering just who had designed the thing in the first place.

"None taken," he assured her. "I realized long ago what I'd done; all I can do now is try to rectify my mistake. Hm... Oh, that's not good." He sighed, fist clenching unconsciously, as he noted an aspect of the design he _wasn't_ responsible for. "Not that I'm surprised."

Waltfeld tilted his head. "What is it, Commander?"

"They've added phase-shift armor," Ken answered. "I can't say I'm surprised, but... this is even worse than I expected."

"How so?" Aisha asked. "Not even PSA's invincible. You could pierce it even with the positron cannon on Preybird, if you had to."

He shook his head. "It's not that simple, Aisha. They've added _multiple_ layers of phase-shift; I could penetrate the first with ease, but it would require combined bombardment from at least two of the ships to get all the way through, and there's no way we'd be left alone long enough to pour on that kind of sustained firepower." He sighed. "As I thought, Preybird is the only option."

Murrue frowned. "What about the weak spot you engineered into it? Couldn't we target that location, without involving Preybird at all?" An unnerving thought struck her. "Or... are you saying they found the weakness, and removed it?"

"No," Ken assured her. "It's possible they found it -though unlikely; I made sure to disguise it behind what _looks_ like proper structural materials- but even if they did, they wouldn't be able to get rid of it unless they wanted to start completely from scratch. That part of construction was already complete before I even left the PLANTs."

"But why does it have to be Preybird?" Kira questioned. "If we could just get one of the ships into range..."

"No," the ace said again. "Take a look: this is the path that would have to be taken to reach the target area." He reached into the hologram, tracing a route _into_ GENESIS itself. "You need to blow through this hatch here, and follow this maintenance shaft deep into the weapon's interior, until you reach this point here. Not even the _Kusanagi_ is small enough to enter that shaft; only a mobile suit can." He met his protégé's eyes grimly. "And, since I could only weaken it so much without it being noticed, only Preybird has sufficient firepower to destroy the target area."

An icy tingle crept down Murrue's spine. "And just what, exactly, lies beyond that wall?"

Ken glanced at her. "The storage for the nuclear cartridges used to create the gamma radiation stream. Hit those just right -at this location, in other words- and the energy release from the Nataraja will set off the chemical explosives within the cartridges, and so trigger the nuclear fission reaction. And, if any of them are fusion -unlikely; the stresses would test even GENESIS' design tolerances, but still possible- that will trigger the fusion reaction."

Cagalli shivered. "I can't imagine what that would be like..."

"It would make even the nuclear attack on Orb look like a firecracker," he said solemnly. "The energy release would be on a level not seen since the Reconstruction War, seventy years ago."

The silence following that statement was truly profound.

It was, in the end, Murrue who first found her voice. "That... sounds very dangerous," she said softly. "Ken... you're not thinking of some kind of suicide mission, are you?"

Ken shook his head. "Not if I can help it, Murrue. I have no more of a death wish than you do; I'm just explaining what's going to happen when I set off the satellite cannon in there. Like it or not, there is going to be a tremendous energy release, all in one place... and you're right, it _will_ be very dangerous."

"What will happen to Preybird, if that happens?" Cagalli asked. "Will it... will it just...?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't think anyone has ever tried what I'm proposing, so no empirical data exists; all we have are a number of theories. Preybird's defenses and speed may be enough, thy may not be. The only way to know for sure is to try it." His serious gaze swept the compartment, finally settling on Murrue's eyes. "I don't like it... but this has to be done. None of our theoretical models have been able to come up with any other workable course of action."

There was another, shorter silence; this war broken by Aisha, who pointed out, "This all depends on our ability to get there in the first place. How about you explain just what we're supposed to be doing in the meantime; I'm still not too clear on that point."

"Well, that partly depends on the Intelligence updates you guys brought with you. Sparky, show me the- Sparky?" Ken frowned. "What is it?"

Sparky had abruptly stiffened, and cupped an earpiece with his hand. "Bad news, Boss," he said at last. "According to an update we just received from one of our power/recon sats, the Earth Forces launched an attack on Victoria Spaceport yesterday... and succeeded in recapturing the mass driver intact."

Ken stifled an incredulous curse. "I'm not surprised they launched the attack... but how on earth did they manage to pull it off so fast? Even ZAFT should've been able to hold them off longer than that; Victoria is -well, was- one of their greatest strategic assets."

"Apparently, they launched a diversion two hours before the true attack." The bigger man grimaced. "A rather _large_ diversion... and we're lucky the N-jammers practically kill radiation fallout."

Murrue closed her eyes. "They dropped another nuclear weapon."

"Exactly. They nuked an uninhabited area to the south, then attacked from the north while ZAFT was still responding to the diversion. It appears they also had an infiltration team, who successfully shut down most of the spaceport's fixed defenses, leaving them wide open."

Waltfeld shook his head. "You know, those people seem awfully willing to use nuclear weapons on their own planet; it's incredible that they can still talk about their 'blue and pure world' with a straight face, after all this. How can they keep this up?"

"They can't," Ken murmured, an arrested expression on his face. "They can justify it against Orb, perhaps, and against Victoria -since it was a critical target, essential to continuing the war in space- but as a standard tactic? No; even Azrael has to listen to public opinion, and continued use of nuclear weapons against terrestrial targets will hurt him very badly on the home front."

Cagalli blinked, then slowly nodded. "Yeah... I guess you're right." She sighed in relief. "So they can't just roll over Gibraltar and Carpentaria, then we should have at least a little more time."

"Yes..." the ace said slowly. "But we can't waste any time. We need to send an exploratory mission to Mendel, so that we can begin operations as soon as possible."

"What kind of operations?" Murrue asked. "And who do we send to Mendel?"

"To answer your first question: we begin ambushing isolated ZAFT and Earth Alliance forces, taking down small groups and then vanishing back into hiding. And as for who goes to Mendel? I'd have thought that would be obvious." Ken idly stroked Griever's hilt. "That'll be me."

* * *

_Asmodeus,_ Hangar

* * *

"Quite the ship our little brother had built, huh?" Sophia murmured to Mu, as they climbed out of the shuttle in the _Archangel_-class ship's hangar. "Just like the _Archangel..._ except nastier."

"Well, you know Falcon," Mu replied, "he doesn't believe in overkill." Actually, that was probably an understatement; the young pilot was so determined to avoid failing his self-appointed mission that he tended to arm his units with every piece of deadly hardware he could think of... and, being a weaponry engineer by training, he could think of quite a few. "So," he went on after a moment, "what exactly are we here to pick up? Falcon was awfully vague about it; and I get nervous when he gets vague."

"Ah, you're just sore over finding out he was trying to take on the entire world," Sophia teased, "and dragged us all along with him. Anyway," she went on, in a more serious tone, "apparently, the Gray Demons managed to construct that big zweihander for the Buster, so we're supposed to bring that back with us to the _Archangel._ Also, he tells me there's a custom-built mobile suit here for me; something he stole from the Eurasians, when he got the data to construct Preybird's light-wave barrier. And..." She frowned, thinking. "He said something about new Striker packs for your machine. He wasn't very specific, but he said he thought at least one of them would come in handy."

"A design he stole from the Earth Forces," Shiho Hahnenfuss told them, walking over; she'd transferred over earlier, to prepare the gear for transport. "One of them is called the Lightning Striker; uses an electromagnetic pulse cannon to knock out enemy electronics... usually fatally. Some kind of selective, targeted variant of ZAFT's Gungnirs. The other," she went on, nodding at a familiar shape in one corner of the hangar, "is that."

Mu whistled in surprise. "That looks like a Moebius Zero; what's one of _those_ doing _here?"_

She smiled. "It's not a Zero, Commander; though apparently the Earth Forces _did_ use your old mobile armor as a basis for it. No, what it is, is a new Striker pack; called the Gunbarrel pack. The original version, as designed by the Alliance, used rapid-fire railguns, but when the Boss sent us the design, we tweaked it, replacing them with energy weapons."

The Hawk smiled slowly. "Sounds like the old Raptor's Death Blossom system... I could get to like that..."

"We thought so," Shiho agreed.

Sophia glanced around, noting six GuAIZ units against one bulkhead, along with what looked suspiciously like Rondo Sahaku's Astray Gold Frame AMATU. "So... where's the machine I'm supposed to be picking up? It's hard to see anything in this crowded place."

"Right over there." Housenka pointed; and the Kestrel felt her eyebrows go up in surprise.

"Just what _is_ that?" she asked. "It... it looks like a G-weapon of some kind, but... I don't recognize the design." She frowned. "It _does_ look Eurasian, though."

"That would be the CAT1-X4/4 Hyperion," the other pilot answered. "I think your captain has already been briefed on it; but, since the Boss has obviously decided you needed a surprise, let me outline it for you." She took a breath; and Mu was instantly reminded of Ken, going into lecture mode. "A Eurasian attempt at a next-generation mobile suit, it was apparently begun because Eurasia doesn't like having to rely on the Atlantic Federation; and they did a pretty good job with it. This model is, per the Boss's instructions, equipped with a Neutron-jammer canceler, nuclear reactor, and PSA, and, of course, the standard weapons for the type: a single beam submachine gun, delivering heavy firepower with a high _rate_ of fire; six close-in beam knives; two shoulder-mounted beam cannons; two back-mounted beam cannons, installed as part of the light-wave shield; and, of course, the light-wave barriers themselves. There are two arm-mounted units, virtually identical to Preybird's single unit, and a back-mounted system that provides full, three-hundred-sixty-degree coverage, protecting the machine from all angles. On one of the original Hyperion units, the system could only be used for very brief periods, because the energy drain would leave the machine helpless very quickly; this, while being nuclear powered, also has a time limit, but not because of energy drain per se."

Sophia, ever the engineer, nodded in understanding. "Use that much power for too long, and you've got a core meltdown."

"Exactly," Shiho agreed. "And nuclear meltdowns tend not to be very healthy for the pilot." She smiled. "So what do you say, Kestrel? Want to take it for a spin?"

* * *

_Arkbird,_ Observation Deck

* * *

_When Falcon builds a ship,_ Dearka mused, _he does it with style; only he would remember even soldiers like to have a place to look out at the stars._ He snorted to himself. _Of course, he designed this thing before Endymion and GENESIS drove him over the edge into obsession..._

"So just how did you get involved with the Commander's misfits, anyway, Nicol?" Yzak asked of the younger pilot. "I mean, I know your cousin's involved, but I wouldn't think that alone would be enough to get _you_ to desert; let alone your father."

Nicol shrugged. "Well, for one thing, they _did_ save my life, Yzak. After Kira took down the Blitz, I was hurt pretty bad; it was only because _Hades_ was there that I survived at all. Then they got me up to the PLANTs, where I started to recover... and they told me about GENESIS." He gazed moodily through the bulkhead-to-bulkhead viewport. "I knew they had to be telling the truth; even if I didn't know Leanne as well as I do, the plans they showed me were too detailed to be fabrications. My father thought the same thing, when they approached him... and that's how we got wrapped up in the Commander's conspiracy."

"Both Nicol and his father have been of great help to us," Lacus added. "Nicol defended us valiantly during our escape from the PLANTs; and his father's influence -since he wasn't under suspicion until we left- was instrumental in getting us the resources we needed to finish the ships. Even with Commander DiFalco's network of sleepers within ZAFT, we were beginning to have supply problems."

"That doesn't surprise me," Athrun remarked. "This must have been a mammoth undertaking; a lesser group couldn't have pulled it off at all."

"Commander DiFalco's brain, and our hard work," Nicol agreed. "He did the thinking, we did the lifting. Equitable trade, if you ask me."

"And you've been right in the thick of it." Yzak shook his head. "I gotta admit it, Nicol; going right back into battle after being nearly _killed_ by the Strike pilot, and then actually forgiving him for it... I guess I was wrong," he admitted at last. "You're a lot of things, Nicol, but a coward isn't one of them."

"Seriously," Dearka agreed, shaking his head. "Man; when all this started, on Heliopolis, we were all part of the same team; then, one by one, we got split up. First Nicol, outside Orb, then me, in the Marshall Islands... and Athrun, with the transfer to the Special Forces. And now, here we all are again, back on the same side... and under the command of ZAFT's first great traitor."

Athrun chuckled. "Just goes to show you how the whole world can be turned upside down, I guess." His amusement faded, though, as he remembered what had brought _him_ to this pass; how his faith in his father had been shaken, and finally shattered by the knowledge of the Neutron-jammer cancellers, and the words of his fiancé, Lacus Clyne, and the cool, calculating ace, Ken DiFalco.

Lacus sensed what he was thinking, and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Athrun," she said quietly. "I can't imagine what you must be going through, with your own father leading the group you have no choice but to fight..."

He took a deep breath. "He's... not really my father anymore," he said, with difficulty. "He hasn't been... since the Bloody Valentine." The blue-haired pilot clenched a fist. "Commander DiFalco lost just as much as my father did, but _he_ didn't lose it; why...?"

Dearka shot him a glance. "Look, Athrun, if you keep thinking like that, you'll tear yourself apart. Take it from me: trying to understand 'why' a pain from the past happened will never get you anywhere. You'll be in an endless cycle; you have to let it go, and deal with the effects, not the causes."

Athrun looked at him sharply. "You're speaking from experience."

The Buster's pilot nodded. "That's right. My sister died in the Bloody Valentine."

Yzak's eyes widened, and Nicol gasped. "You never said you had a sister, Dearka!" the younger pilot said in surprise. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Dearka shrugged uncomfortably. "Because that's a pain... that we agreed should remain between the two of us. It's... not something either of us likes to talk about."

Lacus looked at him shrewdly. "'Us'... The other person wouldn't happen to be Commander DiFalco, would it? What was your sister to him?"

"That's not for me to say," he answered quietly. "If you want to know any more, you'll have to get it from him; it's not my place."

There was an uncomfortable silence after that, until Nicol cleared his throat. "Hey, come on, guys; now's now the time to be talking about things like that. _We're_ alive, aren't we, despite all the odds against us? Let's forget about past battlefields for awhile, and just relax."

Athrun smiled slowly. "Yeah, Nicol. Yeah, you're right. We're finally all back together again; and, for once, not even arguing. Let's treasure the peace we have... since you know it won't be long before the Commander drags us into another crazy scheme."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar, June 22nd, C.E. 71

* * *

Within less than twenty-four hours of the _Arkbird,_ _Asmodeus,_ and _Eternal_ arriving at Ame-no-Mihashira, the five vessels of the True ZAFT faction had gotten underway again, and were now moving toward Lagrange point Four at a cautious pace. The Orb station had been deemed a... less than ideal place to spend time, under the circumstances, so Ken, after consulting with Murrue and the other captains, had chosen to set course for Mendel, before sending out his solo mission.

To Murrue's surprise, Ken had chosen to remain with the _Archangel,_ despite the _Arkbird_'s superior command/control facilities (as befitted a vessel that had been specifically intended as a flagship). When she'd questioned his logic, he'd simply said that, while his original intention had been to fly his flag from the _Arkbird,_ he'd spent so long with the _Archangel_ that he had a battle-tested, well-honed command team already in place there. To hear him tell it, to change the arrangements now -despite Sparky being his XO for so long- would greatly reduce efficiency, and, consequently, survivability.

Now the ace floated into the hangar, checking his flightsuit, helmet tucked under one arm as he prepared for launch. After two days of frantic work, Preybird's repairs were still incomplete, so Mu had offered him the use of the Strike for this mission; fortunately, the differences between Kira's former machine and his own, destroyed Raptor were mostly superficial, so he would have little trouble navigating to his destination.

_Though I'm going to miss Preybird's cockpit,_ he thought to himself. _The GAT-series seats just aren't very comfortable on long flights..._

He was brought up short by a call from behind him. "Commander!"

Ken turned, surprised to see Athrun Zala approaching. "What is it, Athrun? And I thought I told you guys not to call me that."

"There's just one thing I need to ask you," Athrun said quietly, his gaze as somber as his voice. "You've said all along that my father is behind this; that he's the reason you left ZAFT, and chose to fight for the PLANTs on your own. And," he admitted, "I believe you. But..." He took a deep breath. "Are you going to kill my father?"

The ace paused, his mono-eyed gaze meeting Athrun's. "If it comes down to it," he said evenly, "probably." He laid a hand on the younger pilot's shoulder. "Understand me, Athrun. I don't want to; your father was a good friend of mine once, and I honestly don't believe the Bloody Valentine sent him instantly over the edge. But grief for your mother weighed on him, and finally pushed him into madness. I know; I was in a position to watch it happen to him. So..." He sighed. "Athrun, I don't think your father is the man who raised your anymore... and if he persists on this course, I will do what I must. I don't intend to cause any more of an upheaval in the PLANTs than I have to -even in a best-case scenario, the Earth Forces likely _will_ have the combat power remaining to defeat our homeland, if it's in chaos- but you have to know that in the event of a battle such as what we're trying to force, Patrick will almost certainly be directing the defense from Jachin Due itself... and Jachin is one of our prime targets."

"I know," Athrun murmured, looking down at the deck. "And I wish you were wrong... but you're not. My father hasn't been the same since my mom died, and he's been getting worse all the time..."

"I'm sorry," Ken said simply; it wasn't adequate, and he knew it, but those were the only words he had. His study was of human psychology in battle, not in times of grief. With his parents gone -and never very close to him- the only personal experience he had with such feelings had been at the Bloody Valentine...

"It's not your fault, Commander... I mean, Falcon." Athrun took another deep breath. "But... if it can be arranged without disrupting the plan, I'd like to talk with him, one more time."

The ace nodded. "I think we can manage that," he answered. "It might only be from a mobile suit's radio, but it can be done."

"Thank you." With that, Justice's pilot withdrew, and Ken continued on to the Strike.

_Gaah,_ the ace thought to himself. _What a crazy world. Join ZAFT at fifteen, and by the time I'm eighteen I'm leading a force of five ships and thirty-six mobile suits against the entire world... and dealing with the inevitable problems of one of our top pilots being the son of the man I'm trying to stop before he can destroy the entire world..._

Shaking his head, Ken drew himself into Strike's cockpit, and begin the preflight checklist. Regrettably, the machine wasn't set up for the power connection to his flightsuit that he had installed in his own mobile suits, but he wasn't expecting to get into any combat; and if he did, he still had a number of portable power packs with him.

And, in the unlikely event he ran into trouble after he landed, Griever was perfectly capable of cutting through anything in his way, be it doors... or people.

He was just about to seal the cockpit hatch when he heard someone tapping on it. _Hm?_ Curious, he unstrapped, and pulled himself back to the hatch.

"Wasn't sure I'd make it in time," Murrue told the ace, when he appeared.

Ken raised an eyebrow. "In time for what? Just what are you doing down here, anyway? Shouldn't you be on the Bridge?"

She smiled. "Doing what?" she riposted. "As Natarle was quick to remind me, this is one of those situations where it's more the exec's job to run the ship than me; all there is right now is administrative details. There won't be much for _me_ to do until you get back and tell us whether or not we can use Mendel. Anyway, I came to see you off, seeing as you'll be gone a couple days, at least."

He smiled slightly (even now, he wasn't given to effusive expressions). "Thanks; though if this a case of better to say goodbye now, because I maybe dead soon, I think you're worrying overmuch. Like I said, I've never met Gai Murakumo, but I think we'll understand each other. Besides, we have a friend in common."

Murrue tilted her head. "Who? Oh, you mean the Junk Guilders?"

"Right; Lowe Guele in particular. If nothing else, Murakumo should at least know my name." Ken chuckled quietly. "Actually, we _have_ met once before; just not face to face. The Earth Forces hired Serpent Tail last year, during the Nova battles. I fought his custom GINN there -along with Mikhail Coast, a pilot I despise- and was successful in driving him off."

"Better hope he doesn't hold a grudge," she remarked.

He shrugged. "He's a mercenary; things like that come with the territory. Win some, lose some. At least he got his pay; that's all that will matter to him."

Murrue raised and eyebrow. "You sound almost like you admire him."

"Maybe I do, a little; I don't know about fighting for both sides, the way he's done, but he actually has considerably more freedom than I do." The ace's voice had turned almost... wistful. "His loyalty is only to his own people; no ideology holds him to his course. I, on the other hand, am trapped in this path, committed to one goal and unable to stray from it..." He shook himself. "But it was my own choice, so I've no business brooding about it."

"I don't think most other people would be that sanguine about the matter, if put in your position."

"I don't think many other people _have_ been put in my position," he retorted. "It's not often a soldier is forced to rebel against his nation in order to save it, you know."

"True," she acknowledged. "Though I'd say you're doing a fine job of it so far."

"I thought that, too... until Orb got nuked for my sins."

Murrue sighed. "You're not still blaming yourself for that, are you? Even Cagalli says it's not your fault, and if anyone has a right to blame you -assuming there was any _reason_ to- it would be her. Let it rest, Ken."

"I can't do that," he said quietly. "Not until everything is over."

"It'll tear you apart," she said firmly. "And if you go and become a martyr, instead of living to see the fruits of your labor, I'll..."

"Relax, Murrue," Ken told her, raising a hand. "I don't intend to get myself killed. If nothing else, ZAFT is going to be experiencing a major upheaval, when all this is over, and I may well be needed to help pick up the pieces; and I can't very well do that if I die. You don't have to worry about me launching a suicide mission if it can possibly be avoided."

"Good." Murrue smiled. "But you'll excuse me if I don't think _you_ should be the one making judgments about whether or not a suicide mission is necessary, right?"

"I don't intend to run this operation alone," he agreed. "I told you that before. I don't run my units as democracies, either, but I'm not prepared to reject the judgment of others out of hand. For one thing, I know I'm fallible; relying just on my skill _would_ get me killed."

"Good," she said again, and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Now, you should probably be going; the sooner you go, the sooner you get back."

"Agreed."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Deck

* * *

_Well, there he goes,_ Mir thought, watching as the Strike accelerated away from the _Archangel._ She was off-duty, and had decided to watch Ken's departure from the ship's forward observation deck. _Good luck, Ken; you may need it..._

Just as Strike vanished into the velvety black distance, a voice intruded into her thoughts. "So he's on his way, huh? Figures he'd go alone."

She looked up quickly. "Dearka? What are _you_ doing here?"

Dearka smiled, coming up next to her. "About the same thing I've been doing ever since I got here, I guess; running into you. Uh, not that I mind or anything," he added hastily.

Mir couldn't help but smile back. "Relax, Dearka. I only tried to kill you once; if I haven't done it by now, I think you can assume I'm not going to." She raised an eyebrow. "But what I meant was, what are you doing on the _Archangel?_ I thought you'd still be on one of the other ships, catching up with your friend."

He shrugged. "Nah; there's only so many times you can exchange accounts of near-death experiences before the topic gets stale. Besides, Nicol's got his own job over there, smoothing the rough edges on those GuAIZ pilots." Buster's pilot shook his head. "Would you believe that, compared to them, Nicol's a veteran? He was fifteen the first time he went into battle, and yet now..."

"He grew up, I guess," she suggested. "That tends to happen, when you've been in close proximity with Ken after awhile. Those who get caught up in his schemes tend to get a lot of experience, really fast."

"Maybe so." Dearka looked at her sidelong. "Speaking of Falcon, there's something I've been wondering about ever since I got onboard. I talked to Sai, and some of the regular crew -even Mu- and a lot of them seemed to think there was something going on between you two, awhile back."

Mir blushed. "It's nothing like that," she informed him quickly. "I mean, yeah, we're close, but it was never anything like that. It's just... back at Heliopolis, he was always so cool, almost cold, but I could tell there was an actual human being in there, deep down, and I was determined to get some kind of reaction out of him. And he seemed... I don't know, almost sad about something; he seemed like a nice guy, too, so I wanted to help him." She smiled sheepishly. "Of course, I had no idea he was trying to stay out of a war that he'd already played a major role in, but..."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Well, none of us really had any idea of what he was up to back then; least of all me. But," he went on with a slight smile, "you're sure it was nothing more than that?"

"You're asking me that, after seeing how he is with the Captain?" She grinned, shaking her head. "Come on, Dearka; you have to know what's _really_ going on there. Or do you think she personally goes down to the hangar to see off _every_ pilot whenever they launch?"

"Guess you've got a point, at that," Dearka admitted with a chuckle. "But before the Captain entered the picture...?"

"No way; it just wasn't like that, Dearka. Besides, with Tolle..." Mir trailed off, her face falling at the memories the mere name brought to mind.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I... I didn't mean to bring up bad memories..."

"No," she told him quietly, "it's okay, Dearka. You... you didn't kill him; none of this is your fault. Every once in a while, something brings it to mind again, and I..." She looked up, meeting his eyes. "Dearka... how did he die?"

Dearka froze for an instant, surprised by the unexpected question. "I... uh..." He cleared his throat. "I... don't really know," he said slowly. "Right around then, Falcon and I were fighting... and then we knocked each other down, and I got taken aboard the _Archangel..."_ He shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, Miriallia. Falcon probably knows... or Kira." He hesitated. "Or you... could ask Athrun."

"Kira won't say a word about it," Mir said quietly, her mood beginning to recover a little. "I think he's ashamed he couldn't save Tolle; and he probably doesn't like to think about the one time he truly _lost_ a fight. As for Ken... He doesn't like to talk about it, either; and prying information out of _him_ is usually more trouble than it's worth. And Athrun..." She slowly shook her head. "I think I've forgiven him, Dearka, but I just can't bring myself to ask him about this."

He nodded. "I understand. And, uh... I might be able to find out for you," he offered. "Falcon might talk to _me_ about it..."

"Thanks," she replied, "but... maybe it's better this way. Not knowing, I mean. If I _did_ know, I... I don't know how I'd feel."

"Ignorance is bliss," Dearka said fervently. "I understand; I've seen how my sister died, in the Bloody Valentine... so maybe you're right. Maybe it _is_ better this way."

Mir nodded; and the two of them hung silently before the viewport, each remembering their own pain... and supported by each other's presence.

* * *

Lagrange Point Four, Outside Mendel Colony, June 24th, C.E. 71

* * *

Nearing the abandoned colony, Ken flew cautiously, examining his surroundings with care; despite his words to Murrue, he _was_ a touch nervous, and he wasn't flying the machine he preferred. Not only was Strike far less capable than Preybird, but he was also unused to it. It had been months now since his Raptor fell apart around him, and even had it not been so long, Strike's handling characteristics weren't quite the same.

_No matter, though; if Gai Murakumo isn't feeling talkative today, I'll still have ample opportunity to escape. Besides, I expect the man will at least be curious._

As he came closer to Mendel, he grew increasingly curious. For some reason, both Sophia and his own Gray Demons had seemed very reluctant to see him head off; almost as though they were afraid he'd find something at Mendel that he shouldn't. But that didn't make any sense... did it? _Was_ there something here that they knew about, and he didn't? But if so, why hide it? Sophia wasn't really a surprise in that regard, but it wasn't like his old teammates to keep things from him like that.

_Forget it,_ he told himself. _Concentrate on the mission for now; and break out the thumbscrews when you get back to the fleet._

It didn't take long for Strike's presence to be noticed. A heavily-customized GINN, equipped with additional armor and a peculiar head crest, exited the colony's main harbor, and approached Ken's machine. "This is Elijah Kiel," the GINN's pilot identified himself. "Identify yourself."

"I'm an emissary from the True ZAFT forces," Ken replied, unwilling to use his name at this point. "I wish to speak to Gai Murakumo; my weapons are powered down," he added.

Within the GINN's cockpit, Elijah Kiel lifted an eyebrow. "True ZAFT... the ZAFT splinter faction we've been hearing so much about lately?" His eyes narrowed. "What would your group want here? Mendel's been an abandoned wreck since the Yggdrasil battles last year."

"I know," Ken said dryly. "I was there. Look, Kiel, all I want is to talk; and I can assure you that neither I nor my people have any intention of attacking."

Kiel thought about that for a moment. _This guy's got guts, whoever he is... Well, I guess Gai won't mind talking to him. True ZAFT was allied with Orb before the attack, and he's had a soft spot for Orb ever since they fixed the Blue Frame for him._

"All right," he said finally. "I'll guide you in. Follow me close, and don't arm your weapons; you'd probably be vaporized before you could do anything else."

"I'd expect no less from the Serpent Tail," Ken assured him. "Don't worry."

* * *

Mendel, Colony Interior

* * *

Gai Murakumo watched with interest as his wingman Elijah escorted the Strike pilot to his makeshift office. Whoever he was, he obviously intended to convey a specific impression, because he'd taken the time to pull on a uniform before leaving his machine; a red ZAFT elite uniform, with an open gray trench coat over it, and a red-handled katana in a matching scabbard tied to his belt.

The young pilot also wore a patch over his left eye, with a long scar angling down through it; apparently the remnants of a sword wound, from the look of it.

And, on his collar, there was a pair of gray feathers...

"So," Gai began, without preamble, "you're the pilot who just arrived unannounced? Elijah tells me you want to talk."

"That's right, Mister Murakumo," the pilot acknowledged. "But first, may I say that's good to meet you again, off the battlefield."

The mercenary frowned. "Again? Have we met before?"

The pilot nodded. "Once. On the battlefield. It was during the battle for the East Asian resource satellite Nova; you were flying a deep blue, heavily-customized GINN. I was in a CGUE. You gave me quite a run for my money, I'll give you that."

"A CGUE... a slate-gray CGUE, right?"

"That was me." The stranger grimaced. "Along with a GINN High Maneuver, piloted by a man I despise; I confess I would've preferred it if you'd managed to eliminate Doctor Coast. The man gives me the creeps. Anyway," he went on, "you very nearly wrecked my plans that day; the operation I'd planned against Nova hadn't included Serpent Tail in its parameters."

Gai nodded in sudden understanding. "You're Ken DiFalco; the legendary Grimaldi Falcon. I should've realized that the moment I saw those feathers."

"The mark of those who have flown with the Gray Demons," Ken acknowledged. "And I was the only member of the team ever to wear an eyepatch... or have a scar from where Victor Tempest tried to cut me to pieces."

The mercenary nodded again. "Well, you've succeeded in convincing me you're serious about talking," he remarked. "Though what the leader of True ZAFT would be doing here, I don't know. I'd think you'd be busy planning your next sortie."

Ken shook his head. "No. Before we can begin operations, we need a secure base from which _to_ operate; and while I have a backup site selected, Mendel would be preferable, at least for the time being."

"So why come here alone?"

"Because according to a survey conducted by one of my subordinates, this colony was -and, obviously, is- being occupied by your group." The ace smiled slightly. "I thought it only polite to ask your permission before we moved in; for one thing, despite our numbers, I'm not at all sure we could fend off your group. I recall how dangerous you were in a modified GINN. What you could accomplish with one of the Astray prototypes doesn't bear thinking on."

"I don't know about that," Gai said thoughtfully. "Against most of your units, you're correct; but I've seen the reports of what your own personal machine is capable of, Commander."

"My personal machine isn't designed with the Blue Frame in mind," Ken said dryly. "Against the configurations I have data on, sure; but you've been known to change its weapons loadout considerably, so I wouldn't count on Preybird's superiority. Especially not against a pilot of your caliber. Besides," he added ruefully, "Preybird isn't in any shape to shoot down a sparrow. During the battle of Orb, I had a close encounter with a nuclear-tipped TLAM-Five; Preybird's still being repaired. That's why I came here in the Strike." He shook his head. "No, Murakumo; I respect you -and your abilities- too much to try and take this place by force."

The merc raised an eyebrow. "I find that surprising. I'd expect you to be disgusted with my line of work; you don't seem the type to tolerate mercenaries."

"You have your path, and I have mine," the ace said quietly. "I may question the wisdom of taking assignments from both sides, considering how the Earth Forces used you -yes, I know all about the Combat Coordinator project; one of my Intel advisors used to be an Earth Forces agent- but if you've chosen to be a mercenary, I have no problem with that. Unlike me, you have no reason to be bound to either side; you have no close ties to the Alliance or ZAFT. Where I am fighting for my homeland, you fight for money, as a way of making a living. You're loyal not to any government or organization, but to your own people. I respect that."

Gai nodded to himself. "So it's true what they say: you _are_ perceptive. I guess it comes with the territory, when the lives of your people ride on your ability to out-think the enemy." He smiled. "If you weren't so committed to your cause, Commander, you'd make a fine mercenary."

"I'll take that as a compliment... I think." Ken cleared his throat. "Back to the topic that brought me here: all we're interested in is using a portion of the Mendel colony as a base, without interfering with or being shot at by your people. Is that acceptable?"

The merc exchanged glances with Elijah, then nodded slowly. "I think we can work with that," he agreed, and shook the ace's hand. "And if you ever need a hand, just have your pocketbook handy."

"Thanks," the ace said dryly, "but for now, I think we can rely on our own strength. I don't expect to run into anyone I hate enough to set _you_ on."

* * *

_Nacht Jaeger,_ Bridge, June 25th, C.E. 71

* * *

Captain Kyle Kreitzman was brooding -a lesser-known habit of his; one he had for reasons few people knew- when his comm officer looked up. "Captain, we have a message from the homeland, marked Urgent."

He shook himself, and stood. "Indeed? Let me see it." Taking a piece of hardcopy printout from the green-uniformed man, he scanned it with interest. _In fact, this is the most interesting news we've gotten since we were chasing the legged ship, back in February..._

Behind him, Commander Victor Tempest, a.k.a Huckebein, glanced his way. "What is it, Captain? From your expression, it must be important."

Kreitzman nodded. "It is, Sir. We have new orders from the homeland; it seems we may have a lead on the _Eternal_'s intended destination. We still don't know where the so-called 'True ZAFT' fleet is, but one of their mobile suits was spotted heading for one of the L4 colony groups; Command speculates the Mendel colony is their most likely destination."

Huckebein's remaining eye widened behind his mask. "The Mendel colony? Well, well, well... that's interesting. And... appropriate. I take it our orders are to pursue the _Eternal_ and her accompanying ships?"

"Yes, Sir; and we're not to go alone."

Tempest nodded. "That makes sense; we could probably handle the _Eternal,_ but not all five of the ships DiFalco's faction is supposed to have. Who are our escorts?"

"Three other _Nazcas;_ the _Helderton,_ _Hoisengert,_ and the _Vesalius._ Also, one _Laurasia,_ the _Ziegler."_

"Hmph; the Le Creuset team, eh? Well, can't say I'm surprised." Huckebein nodded to himself. "Very well, Captain. Set course for Mendel, immediately."

"Yes, Sir," Kreitzman acknowledged, and turned to bark orders to the helmsman.

Meanwhile, his boss was feeling curiously at peace. _The Mendel colony... the place where it all began, for Falcon, for Le Creuset... for me. And, perhaps... the place where it will finally end. Please, old friend... kill me..._

* * *

_Vesalius,_ Bridge

* * *

"We have new orders from the homeland, Commander," Fredrik Ades called. "There's evidence that DiFalco's splinter faction is on the move."

Rau Le Creuset looked up, interested. "Falcon's people have been located? That's interesting; where does the homeland think they're going?"

"According to the report none of DiFalco's ships have been spotted," the Captain said, going over the message again, "so this information is considered tentative. But one of their mobile suits, the rebuilt Strike, was seen at Lagrange point Four, near this colony group." He brought up a space map on the tabletop display. "It's believed that this is the machine's destination; and the homeland's belief is that the Strike is operating as an advanced scout, in preparation for moving their entire fleet to this location."

Le Creuset nodded, very interested indeed. "The Mendel colony... It makes sense. No one's bothered with that place since the biohazard incident three years ago; with the decontamination complete -and the surrounding colonies similarly abandoned- it would make an ideal base for them. Just the sort of thing Falcon would think of, knowing that man." He glanced at Ades. "I do hope we're not going alone? I have the utmost confidence in our pilots, but all we have are GINNs, a GuAIZ, and my old CGUE; whereas Falcon's faction has somewhere between thirty and forty mobile suits, according to our best estimate, including a number of X models."

"We won't be alone, Sir," Ades assured him. "We're to rendezvous with the _Helderton, Hoisengert,_ and _Nacht_ _Jaeger,_ as well as the _Ziegler."_

The commander nodded thoughtfully. "That will even the odds a little; I believe _Nacht_ _Jaeger_'s complement consists entirely of GuAIZ units, as well as Huckebein's new machine. Then an additional six each of various types on the _Helderton_ and _Hoisengert,_ and another six on the _Ziegler..._ which gives us thirty mobile suits, comparable to Falcon's complement." He glanced up. "Make a note for when we return to the homeland: we need to expedite GuAIZ production, and perhaps even revive the DEEP Arms program. Whatever Falcon's eventual intentions, they _will_ eventually lead him to the PLANTs, and frankly, I've heard unpleasant things about his new personal machine. According to Huckebein and the other survivors of Spit Break, almost nothing we have can even touch it."

"A pity we weren't able to recover intact battle data on it," Ades remarked.

"Well, that happens when a Cyclops goes off in the vicinity." Le Creuset shrugged. "Very well. Set course for Mendel immediately."

"Yes, Sir."

As Ades went back to his duties, Rau Le Creuset smiled to himself. _The Mendel colony... oh, what a delightful coincidence. Perhaps now Mu will finally learn the truth... and perhaps _I _will finally learn why Falcon and I have a similar connection... Oh, yes, I can hardly wait..._

* * *

Author's note: With True ZAFT united at last, Ken DiFalco's plans are finally nearing fruition; and now, as they make their way to the Mendel colony, two of his old adversaries are planning another attack... which may be the last thing one of them ever does...

And here, at last, comes an update written at my old pace. Just six days since my last update; let's see if I can make that a habit again. The story is getting close to its conclusion, so I'd rather not slow down now. In the meantime, though, let me know how the chapter itself was. -Solid Shark


	37. Chapter 37: Three Cornered War

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Lunar Orbit, Above Ptolemaeus Base, Earth Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Dominion,_ Bridge, July 7th, C.E. 71

* * *

Muruta Azrael, occupying a chair on the port side of the _Archangel_-class warship's Bridge, tapped his armrest in thought. "How long until we're ready to make a final assault on the PLANTs, Admiral?" he asked finally. "The Council is beginning to get a little impatient with the progress of the war." 

Admiral James Hamilton, occupying the captain's chair, punched up the latest Intelligence reports on his monitor. "I'm afraid it won't be any time soon, Director," he said finally. "Nuclear weapons are fine against stationary targets, like space colonies and ground installations, but against space fleets they're of limited utility. Right now, ZAFT's forces are still too strong for us to make such an attack."

Azrael nodded unhappily. "I was afraid of that; I suppose we'll just to wait until we contain their planetary forces. Which reminds me: when, exactly, _is_ the next ground offensive scheduled to commence? The sooner we deal with Carpentaria and Gibraltar -not to mention Kaohsiung- the sooner we can get our operations back on track."

"Operation 8.8 is supposed to begin next month," the Admiral replied. "That will focus on Carpentaria; and the assaults on the other two major ZAFT bases will begin shortly after that. As you may expect, our operations will focus on Gibraltar and Kaohsiung. Africa is of little consequence in the grand scheme, and the ZAFT forces there will likely just run out of supplies, if we can deny them access to a spaceport."

"Good. Can't say I'm happy it'll take that long, but, unfortunately, the ignorant masses will crucify us if we keep using nuclear weapons on Earth." The Director sighed. "To make matters worse, I can't even really blame them; we can hardly claim to be fighting for a blue and pure world if we leave radioactive blast craters all over the planet."

"True enough," Hamilton concurred. "Cheer up, Director: it's only a matter of time now. We just need to be patient."

"Hmm..." _Patient... Hmph. He's right, but that doesn't make me any happier about the whole affair. We should've been able to deal with those abominations long ago; and if we'd been able to come up with our own mobile suits a little sooner, maybe we could've._

That was one thing the Blue Cosmos leader found particularly vexing. They'd taken nearly a year to produce _any_ mobile suits, and in the end, the only use the original six had been to the Alliance was in the form of battle data; since, by the time the ship designed around them arrived at Alaska, five were destroyed, and one still in the hands of the enemy. And, meanwhile, both Orb -the manufacturers of the G-weapons- and ZAFT had used the data gleaned from the machines to create their own new mobile suits, with formidable results.

_If only we could've gotten more data on DiFalco's machine; what was it called over the radio? Preybird? Something like that. That unit's power is amazing; if we had something with those capabilities, we wouldn't need to wait to make our attack on the PLANTs..._

Azrael shook himself from his reverie, as another thought intruded. "By the way, Admiral... has there been any more word on the mysterious marauder that's been attacking our convoys?"

Hamilton shook his head. "Nothing concrete, Director. One school of thought in Intelligence is that it's a band of pirates; but there are other ideas, of greater and lesser popularity."

"Hm; and what's the most popular theory?"

The Admiral hesitated. "A number of analysts actually speculate that it's the _Odin_ causing all the ruckus."

Azrael frowned. "The _Odin?_ Wasn't that supposed to be an escort ship for the _Archangel?_ Constructed at Heliopolis, as I recall, by the Fifth Special Division; though as I remember it, the project was kept separate from the _Archangel_, for security reasons."

"That's right," Hamilton confirmed. "The ship was presumed lost in the collapse of the colony; and we've confirmed that Captain Callahan and his exec, Commander DuMont, were both killed with Captain Mornay, during the bombing attempt on the _Archangel._ Beyond that, nothing about the ship's status is known." He shrugged. "For all we know, the _Odin_ could indeed be out there somewhere; the only question is why she'd be fighting us."

"Dissent in the ranks seems an all too common problem," the Director sighed. "You never know why someone might betray his race."

"Agreed; after all- Wait." Hamilton broke off, reading a message that had just appeared on his right-hand armrest screen. "Director..." he began, with a slow smile, "there's news that may interest you."

Azrael raised an eyebrow. "What kind of news, Admiral?"

"It seems we've tracked down the 'True ZAFT' forces," the Admiral informed him. "They were seen at the Mendel colony, less than a week ago."

"A confirmed sighting?" The Director's eyes began to gleam.

"Yes, Director. Confirmed."

Azrael smiled broadly. "All right, then, Admiral! It's time to get rid of one of the thorns in our side. Start putting out orders to assemble Second Fleet; I want to be at Mendel as soon as possible."

* * *

Mendel Colony, Conference Room, July 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Well," Murrue murmured, "now that we're more or less settled, I suppose it's time to start planning our next move in more detail, hm?" 

"Probably," Ken agreed, gazing thoughtfully at a holo display. "We're finally at the point where we can contemplate direct action..."

The two of them, along with Sparky, Andy Waltfeld, Siegel Clyne, and Alicia Cateau constituted the majority of what Kira termed Ken's "Round Table"; an inner circle that did most of the strategic planning, leaving the rest of the group to focus on day to day management of the True ZAFT organization.

Tom Delaney also sometimes attended, as well as Lacus Clyne, and, occasionally, Kira, but Tom usually preferred dealing with the affairs of his own ship, and the maintenance of Preybird, among other things, Preybird; while Lacus helped manage the _Eternal,_ while catching up with her fiancé, Athrun (neither of them paid any attention to Patrick Zala's assertion that they were no longer engaged).

As for Kira... he preferred to go over a transcript later, and discuss any problems he had with the conclusions privately with Murrue or Waltfeld; he knew as well as anyone that, however much he might disagree with how Ken operated, getting into an argument with him during every meeting would be... counterproductive.

Of course, it was only now that serious planning for their operations could even begin; it had taken them over a week to reach Mendel in the first place, and then several days after that to settle in. Murrue hadn't realized before how much effort would be involved just getting dug into a location, but Ken had apparently factored it into his calculations from the beginning.

_Probably,_ she thought, _because this isn't the first time he's done it. He had _less _resources to worry about when setting up at the Eyrie, on the Grimaldi Front, and not even any official support when his people reactivated the Martius Three base... I suppose it helps to have someone with you who's done it all._

Now Ken glanced over at his old exec. "What's Preybird's status, Sparky? She'll be an integral part of whatever operations we set into motion; her status needs to be determined before we get too far ahead of ourselves."

"Repairs were completed yesterday," the big captain replied. "Sorry it took so long, but we never anticipated having to deal with damage from a nuclear weapon; and if you'd been just a little slower trying to evade it, there wouldn't have been enough left _to_ fix."

"There wouldn't have been enough left of me, either," the ace said dryly. "As it was, I was taking anti-radiation drugs for a week." He narrowed his eye. "And the modifications?"

"The right-arm light-wave barrier is ready," Sparky assured him. "The secondary emitters in the wings are good to go, too; though you shouldn't use them any more than you have to. Those bubble emitters burn out a lot faster than the buckler-type units... and if they burn out, so do the DRAGOON units; probably take out a good chunk of the power-receptor surfaces, too."

"Which would be bad," Ken mused. "As it is, I'm not sure if I can retain a charge long enough to reach GENESIS' core..." He shook himself. "And the rest?"

"The second PSA layer is installed; though we're not sure how well it'll work, if something manages to burn through the first layer at all." The bigger man hesitated. "And the... special modifications you ordered are complete, as well."

"Good."

Waltfeld raised an eyebrow. "Special modifications? Something you're not telling us about, Commander?"

"Something like that," Ken said quietly. "Something I'd rather keep in reserve, for the moment. No offense, but what you don't know, you can't spill if you're captured. Remember, this mission _has_ to succeed, no matter what. Any one of us is, in the final analysis, expendable; I'd rather it not come to that, but if it does, we need advantages that the enemy can't learn from captured personnel."

"Cheerful though," Murrue remarked dryly. "And what if _you're_ the one captured? Or did you erase the knowledge from your own mind?"

"If I'm captured, we're in a bad way anyway," he stated flatly. "I've got a couple of backup plans for taking out GENESIS, which I'll leave in the computers of all five ships, but the fact remains that Preybird is our best chance of stopping my monstrous creation."

"And if you _are_ captured?" Clyne said quietly. "What do we do then? Launch a rescue operation?"

"No." Ken glanced around, before finally meeting Murrue's gaze. "If I'm captured... forget about me. I keep a cyanide capsule with me at all times; if I'm captured, I'll take it before they can even think of interrogating me."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "A cyanide capsule? That sounds like something out of an old spy movie." Then she realized that he was being deadly serious. "Now wait a minute, Ken. You wouldn't really..."

"Yes, I would," he told her, almost in a whisper. "Understand me: in the final analysis, even I'm expendable; if it comes to it, I don't want anyone throwing their lives away in an attempt to bring me back. If I'm captured, _do not_ attempt a rescue mission. That's a direct order."

She closed her eyes. The tough young pilot very rarely exercised the authority that was technically his as commander of their group, but when he did... _Though obviously,_ she thought, _he doesn't realize this is one of those times where you shouldn't have given an order because you know it won't be obeyed... Forget it, Ken. You mean more to us than just in terms of numbers and battle strategies..._

Not that she intended to tell _him_ that. He had enough of a swelled head as it was.

"I don't think you need to worry about being captured," Cateau put in dryly. "If you'll recall, I was assigned to bring in your machine, but I think the good Director probably views Preybird as being more trouble than it's worth. He'll have shoot-on-sight orders out by now, I'm sure."

"What about nuclear weapons?" Waltfeld said sharply. "Would he use those?"

"Possible, but unlikely; True ZAFT is a thorn in his side, to be sure, but I think right now he's stockpiling the Alliance nukes for an assault against the Coordinator homeland. He might well come after us, but more likely with conventional forces."

Ken snorted. "I suppose that's a relief; but I'd still prefer he not show up here with the entire Earth Alliance orbital fleet."

"That, too, is highly unlikely," she informed him. "One: he has no way of knowing exactly what kind of forces we have at our command; the only ships he would be aware of are _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi,_ and they aren't worth _that_ much. Two: he won't risk leaving the rest of the Alliance sphere unguarded. Ptolemaeus' defenses are powerful, but Headquarters prefers to leave a heavy fleet presence at Lagrange point One, as well, and another fleet in lunar orbit." She shook her head. "No, Commander; Azrael views us as a threat, but Zala's forces are even more of one. I'm sure he'd happily head out here to personally see us off to the afterlife, but he won't bring more force than he needs. He's a businessman; overkill is foreign to his nature."

"Good to have someone with us who can read Azrael's mind," Sparky remarked. "You sure you're not a soothsayer, Alicia?"

Cateau shook her head, with an expression of mock horror. "A soothsayer? Heaven forbid, Captain; all that mealy-mouthed double talk. You know what became of the soothsaying profession, don't you?"

He shook his head. "No..."

"They all became attorneys, of course."

Ken winced. "I don't know which hurts more, Alicia: your sense of humor, or the fact that you're probably close to the mark on that one."

Murrue chuckled appreciatively, then cleared her throat. "So, ah... where _do_ we go from here, Ken? We've been sitting idle long enough; isn't it time to make our presence known?"

He nodded sharply. "It is. Sparky, bring up the Intel report."

Sparky nodded, and tapped commands into the holo display's control panel. Instantly, the view shifted from a large-scale space map to a close-up of a small group of ships. "Here's what we have," he announced. "According to one of our recon satellites, this convoy set out from the L1 fortifications two days ago; we believe it's en route to L3, possibly to resupply the small fortress Eurasia constructed there several months ago, to replace the Artemis base. It consists of three armed fleet colliers, escorted by three _Drake_-class ships, a pair of _Nelsons,_ and a single _Agamemnon._ It's a small target, but one suitable for a first target."

Waltfeld nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense; though I take it they're the newer, refit classes? The ones with mobile suit launch decks?" At Sparky's nod, he fingered his walking stick, thinking. "Hmm... a few Strike Daggers might make things interesting, but they shouldn't be much of a problem... What about the station itself?" He pointed at the convoy's destination. "Is there anything aboard it that's worth special attention?"

Ken shrugged. "Not really; it's just as much a backwater as Artemis was, so there's just a small garrison of troops, a couple mobile suit squads, and a few fixed defenses. It _does_ have another light-wave barrier, though, so you can forget attacking it, if that's what you were thinking."

"Wait," Cateau interjected. "That's not as wild an idea as you might think." She looked up at the ace. "Commander, I told you I was involved in the Hyperion project; what most people don't realize is that it _is_ possible to breach a light-wave barrier."

His gaze sharpened with interest. "How?"

She shrugged. "Well, theoretically, there's a couple of different ways; but probably the best under the circumstances would be to tune our weapons to fire _through_ it. It's not easy, but that technique allows a Hyperion to fire while still maintaining its defenses. In this case, if we can get a recon satellite close enough, we can observe their barrier, until we get a feel for the shield frequencies involved. If we do, then..."

Ken nodded slowly. "Then we tune our weapons, go in, and take the place away from them... or just blow them up. Murrue?"

Murrue thought about it for a few moments, before smiling. "I like it. But..." She frowned, a new thought occurring to her. "But Kira won't."

He sighed. "I know that; which is why I'm not going to ask him to get involved. But this is a part of war, Murrue. When you're unsure of exactly what you're capable of, you go after soft targets -like this- before going after the big fish; and say what you will about their relative helplessness, that station _is_ a legitimate military target."

"I think the problem would be the colliers, actually. Their armament is so minimal..." She bit her lip; little though she might like to admit it, she had her own reservations about the idea.

Ken saw that, and sighed inwardly. "Look, Murrue," he said tiredly, "do you think I _enjoy_ this kind of thing? I'm not more fond of killing than Kira, but we really do need a soft target for our first strike. When it comes to this kind of operation, we're green; even I've never been in the raiding business." He met her gaze. "The fact is, though, that even if they were completely unarmed, I'd still go after them. That's been a legitimate military strategy for as long as man has had ships."

Waltfeld nodded agreement. "Commerce raiding," he remarked. "If you can't defeat the enemy by force, defeat him through starvation. That's why privateers have been so popular from time to time."

"We're _not_ privateers," the ace said sharply. "I don't want _anyone_ to start getting into that mind set; because if we do, there's entirely too good a chance that we'll become _exactly_ what Kira worries about. There have been legitimate privateers throughout history, but most of them are nothing but semi-legitimized pirates. We'll go after shipping, but I will _not_ see any atrocities committed under my command."

There was a brief, surprised silence, before Clyne cleared his throat. "Ahem... Commander, I believe your fears in that regard are misplaced."

"Preaching to the choir here, Boss," Sparky concurred. "Lighten up a little, will you? Just because you're worried about the kid's reaction isn't reason to lecture everybody. We know our job, and none of us is the type to go pirate."

Ken blinked, and rubbed his eyepatch. "Right," he said with a sigh. "Sorry. I've just been a little on edge recently..."

"I don't blame you," Murrue said sympathetically. "Though if it's only been _recently_ that you've been 'on edge', then I really have to question your sanity."

"Point," he acknowledged. "Definitely a point." The ace shook himself. "All right; back to business. Alicia, I need everything you can remember about that orbital base."

"Of course, Commander." Cateau leaned forward, pointing at several locations within the hologram. "Once you get past the light-wave barrier, the fixed defenses are concentrated here, here, and here; the master control, however, is right _here_. Take it out, and you reduce all defense systems to local control, effectively eliminating the chance of concentrated fire against any one of our units." Her finger moved on, almost without conscious thought. "Entry points here and here..."

* * *

Mendel Colony, Harbor Observation Room

* * *

Looking up at the conference room on another wall of the harbor, Kira slowly shook his head. "Does he _ever_ get tired of planning?" he wondered aloud. 

"It's what he lives for," Cagalli opined, her arm casually tucked through his. "He spent so long near the top of ZAFT that he probably enjoys all that Machiavellian scheming; and he's so fanatical about giving his people the best possible chance that I doubt he begrudges _anything_ that would help achieve that."

Kira chuckled. "He's the _only_ one who enjoys that, then; I hear Captain Delaney says those planning sessions are 'stultifyingly boring'."

She snorted. "He's an engineer, what do you expect? He's like Murdoch; if he can't put his hands on it, it doesn't interest him." She glanced at him sidelong. "So, what do you think they're talking about in there? Planning our next move?"

"Probably." He sighed. "Actually... I heard Ken's planning some kind of raid. I don't know much about it, but Shiho said something about intercepting a supply convoy. Also, she thinks Ken might go after the station those supplies are meant for, if he can figure out how to get through its defenses."

Cagalli squeezed his arm. "I know you don't like Ken's 'Shiva Option', Kira," she said quietly. "But Ken really _is_ the expert; don't you think maybe he knows what he's doing?"

"I know that whatever it is, it'll make perfect sense from a purely military standpoint," Kira admitted unwillingly. "But moral? Maybe there's nothing wrong with the operation they're planning now, but it sets a precedent I don't like. We're supposed to be trying to end the war quickly, with as little bloodshed as possible."

"I know, Kira," she said. "But I think Ken would say that 'quickly' and 'bloodlessly' don't usually go together... and frankly, I think he'd be right. Unless we want to use Azrael's kind of tactics, about our only other option would be to try and go after GENESIS right now, and I don't think that'd be a good idea." She shrugged. "And if it helps any, just about every target he hits will be manned by people totally committed to either destroying the PLANTs, or exterminating all Naturals."

"So what are you saying?" he demanded. "That they deserve what they get?"

"No; just that they know the risks, and if they choose to fight, that's their problem, not ours." Cagalli met his gaze. "Kira... do _you_ have any better ideas?"

Kira sighed. "No. No, I don't. I wish I did, but..." He shrugged helplessly. "At least he isn't asking me to participate in these raids."

She smiled. "See? At least you two still understand each other. You may not _agree,_ but at least you understand. Now, come on," she added, lightly punching his arm. "Let's not worry about battles right now, okay? You know what Ken says about war, don't you? War is one percent terror, two percent depression..."

"...And ninety-seven percept boredom," he finished, and smiled back. "You're right; now's the time to be finding something to do, not worrying about how the next battle's gonna go."

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge, Outside Mendel Colony, July 12th, C.E. 71

* * *

"Well, well, well..." Azrael murmured. "Here we are at last. If our intelligence was right, maybe we can finally repay that bastard DiFalco -and those worthless Orb upstarts- for what happened last month. That nuke didn't do the trick, so I'd really like to get rid of that irritant." 

Admiral Hamilton nodded. "Agreed. CIC, have you been able to get any readings from the Mendel colony harbor yet?"

"Affirmative, Admiral," the lieutenant manning ECM replied. "Five ships detected; two _Archangel_-class, one _Izumo,_ and two unidentified vessels. The computer's working on it, but while they appear to be variations on one class, neither vessel seems to be in our catalogue."

Azrael stroked his chin. "Hm. DiFalco's work, I'm sure; I guess he wasn't idle after leaving ZAFT. But three extra ships... that throws off our force estimate some." He glanced at the _Dominion_'s CO. "Admiral? Is it enough to make a difference?"

Hamilton shrugged. "I can't say with any certainty, Director; without knowing what those two unidentified ships are capable of, any estimate would be just that. Add in another _Archangel_-class, and whatever mobile suit forces the three brought with them..." He shook his head. "It's difficult to be sure, of course, but I doubt five ships will be enough to completely compensate for our force levels. _Dominion,_ along with Second Fleet, should be up to the task."

_"Don't underestimate them, Jim,"_ Rear Admiral Charles Kreitzman warned; he flew his flag from the Second Fleet _Agamemnon_-class flagship, the _Independence._ _"Murrue Ramius was Lewis Halberton's protégé; and whatever our problems with the man, Lewis was no dummy. Add her -and, for that matter, Mu La Flaga- to DiFalco, and you've got a recipe for trouble."_

"We're aware of that, Charles," Hamilton said patiently. "But we _do_ have the three new G-weapons we used at Orb, remember; and the results of that battle also prompted us to replace _Dominion_'s Strike Dagger complement with the 105 variant, if you'll remember. I think we can hold our own against any mass-produced they may've brought with them from Orb, or even the PLANTs."

_"You may be right,"_ Kreitzman conceded. _"But remember something else: we're not the only ones who want DiFalco's organization taken out. If ZAFT should decide to attack at the same time we do..."_

The senior admiral raised an eyebrow. "Worried about your son turning up, Charles?"

Kreitzman colored; and not with embarrassment. _"Don't call that abomination my son,"_ he hissed. _"I have no son."_

"I'm glad to hear that," Azrael interjected smoothly. "Now, if we can get back to the matter at hand, gentlemen?"

Hamilton nodded amiably, oblivious -apparently- to Kreitzman visibly reigning in his temper. "Very well, Director. Lieutenant Carlson, target Lohengrin on the harbor's outer wall; let them know they've been spotted." He waited a beat. "Fire."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

By the time Murrue arrived on the Bridge, as stunned as any by the sudden tremor that had shaken the entire colony, the right-hand armrest screen on her chair had already lit up. _"What's going on?"_ Ken demanded, already wearing his flightsuit, in the hangar. _"What just happened out there?"_

"I don't know yet," she replied honestly. "I just got here myself. Natarle?"

"Positron hit to the harbor's outer wall, Captain," Natarle replied from CIC, looking over Sai's shoulder. "We seem to be under attack; and the weapon's signature reads as..." She straightened, and looked up out of CIC. "That was a Lohengrin, Ma'am."

Murrue closed her eyes. A Lohengrin. To the best of her knowledge -and that of Alicia Cateau, who was more intimately familiar with Earth Alliance policies- only the _Archangel_-class ships had yet been equipped with Lohengrins; no lesser ship could handle the massive weapons. _Except for the _Odins, she reminded herself. _But the only ship of that class was lost at Heliopolis... and no _Odin _skipper in her right mind would attack _us; _not after seeing our force levels._

"Force assessment?" she asked, opening her eyes. "What are we dealing with here?"

"Still checking, Captain."

Her left-hand screen lit up abruptly. _"It's an _Archangel_-class, all right,"_ Andy Waltfeld informed her. _"From what we can see out the harbor's exit, there's a single _Archangel_-class mobile assault ship... and the entire Second Orbital Fleet."_

A quiet curse came from Ken's screen. _"The entire Second Fleet,"_ he whispered harshly. _"Azrael really wants us dead, doesn't he? Hmph; makes me wish I'd taken Gai Murakumo up on his offer, and hired Serpent Tail to help us out."_

_"No use berating yourself for it now,"_ Waltfeld pointed out. _"Before we can start assigning blame or worrying about what we didn't do that we should've, we need to figure out what to do about this situation."_

"Agreed," Natarle put in. "Especially considering the fact that, if the Earth Forces could find us, ZAFT can undoubtedly do the same."

_"That, Natarle, is a truly ugly thought,"_ Ken said, voice now growing detached. _"Especially since, unlike Azrael, ZAFT knows _precisely _how many ships we have, and what type. They may not know exactly what we've got for mobile suits, but they _do _have complete schematics for _Arkbird _-I'm fairly sure I missed at least one copy when I started purging records, back when I deserted- and, after all the encounters they've had with her, they've got a good idea of what _Archangel _herself can do. Probably the same for the _Kusanagi, _and of course they built the _Eternal _in the first place."_

Murrue sighed. "So our only potential wildcards are some of our G-weapons and the _Asmodeus."_

_"I wouldn't even count on the _Asmodeus," he warned. _"She's not _that _much different from the _Archangel. _No, Murrue, if ZAFT shows up, they'll be far more ready than Azrael could ever dream of being."_

"Right..." She shook herself. "Well, for the moment, our first priority is to get out of the harbor. Which of our ships can launch immediately?"

The main display hanging from the deckhead in front of her chair lit up, splitting into four sections. _"We're ready,"_ Kisaka reported, from _Kusanagi._ _"Perhaps not as ready as I'd like, but we can move out at any time."_

Waltfeld grimaced. _"We still need a little more time, I'm afraid."_

_"Still got a couple of bugs in the METEOR units,"_ Aisha confirmed from behind him; she was checking displays even as she spoke. _"I don't know how much good we'll be in this battle, I'm afraid."_

"Understood," Murrue said, with a nod. "But try to expedite."

From her own chair, Lacus nodded. _"We will, Captain Ramius."_

Sparky had an oddly pinched look on his face, and the tic in his cheek had picked up speed. _"We can launch immediately,"_ he said slowly, _"but I think perhaps we shouldn't join you right away."_

_"Sparky's right,"_ Tom concurred. _"I think Natarle's correct about ZAFT's chances of finding us, so we should keep a lookout. I know about the odds already facing us,"_ he added, holding up a hand to forestall her protest. _"But if we allow ZAFT forces to blind-side us, we could conceivably be in even worse shape."_

"I think they're right, Captain," Natarle said unwillingly. "As Falcon said, ZAFT knows our ship strength; at absolute minimum, they'll send an equal number; and I can only think of one person they'd put in command of an operation like that."

"Le Creuset," Murrue murmured. "Very well. _Kusanagi,_ you'll launch right behind us, and stay in formation; _Arkbird,_ _Asmodeus,_ take up picketing positions beyond the immediate battle area, and try to stay out of harm's way as long as possible. Fire only in self-defense, or if it's critical to the survival of one of the other ships."

_"Understood, Captain Ramius,"_ Sparky acknowledged, recognizing that right now, _Archangel_'s captain spoke with Ken's authority. As in any fleet, the flag captain was the CO's tactical alter ego.

_"Will do,"_ Tom concurred.

Their images winked out, and Murrue looked back to Waltfeld. "Captain Waltfeld, we'll buy you as much time as we can; try and get ready for launch in the meantime. Your weapons could make the difference out there."

_"Acknowledged, Captain; and thank you."_

His image, too, vanished, and she looked toward the bow of the Bridge. "Take us out, Arnold, maximum thrust. Sai, sound Battlestations."

"Aye aye." Sai hit a control, switching to an all-hands band. _"All hands to Level One Battlestations,"_ he called. _"All hands to Level One Battlestations. All hands to Level one Battlestations."_

General Quarters alarms began to blare... and then Flay spoke up, almost hesitantly. "Captain... the lead enemy ship is hailing us."

Lips grimly pressed together in a thin line, Murrue nodded. "Put it on," she ordered. "Let's see what they have to say."

She was not at all surprised when Muruta Azrael appeared on the main monitor a moment later. _"Well, well,"_ the Director murmured. _"Lieutenant Commander Murrue Ramius, isn't it? Or I guess that would be _Captain, _now; that's usually what pirates call themselves, when they're in charge."_

Murrue's eyes flashed. "It's Captain," she confirmed flatly. "But we're no pirates, Director Azrael."

_"Oh, so you know who I am? I'm impressed, Captain; and that should simplify things a little."_ He nodded respectfully. _"Just as in the business world, on the battlefield it's important to know who and what you're dealing with."_

"Just get to the point, Azrael," she snapped, patience already exhausted. "Why both contacting us in the first place? Don't tell me there's any chance you _won't_ kill us all."

_"Actually,"_ Azrael demurred, _"there _is _one circumstance under which I _won't _order these ships to reduce your little fleet to space dust. All you have to do is surrender Commander DiFalco and his machine to us; obviously, we still won't let you go, but at least a prison sentence is better than execution, wouldn't you say?"_

Murrue glared at him. "If you think we're going to betray him just to satisfy scum like you, Director, you're wrong. And quite frankly, I'll take pleasure in making sure you don't get out of this alive."

The Director shook his head sadly. _"Well, I did give you your chance to live, Captain; don't say I never tried negotiation. But now you leave me no choice... and if you think your five ships can win against both _Dominion _and the entire Second Fleet, along with our mobile suits, _you're _dead wrong."_ He chuckled. _"I think you just don't appreciate the odds you're facing, Captain."_

"You're the one in the weaker position here, Director," Alicia Cateau commented, entering the camera's view, "whether you know it or not. Numbers aren't the only thing that matters... unless you actually _were_ stupid enough to bring nuclear weapons with you?"

Azrael's expression darkened; first at the sight of the traitorous pilot, then at her words. _"I don't need nukes to deal with you rabble,"_ he said harshly. _"Admiral Hamilton, launch mobile suits immediately! Our target is the so-called True ZAFT fleet!"_

_"Yes, Director,"_ another voice acknowledged from off-screen. _"Launch Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider; then deploy the 105 Daggers. Commence operations immediately."_

The signal abruptly cut off, and Cateau sucked in a breath. "105 Daggers," she breathed. "That's not good, not good at all."

Natarle looked up from CIC. "What is it? What are '105 Daggers'?"

"They're what the Strike Daggers were supposed to be," Cateau replied. "Mass-produced versions of the Strike. The original Daggers were rush-jobs, inferior models built simply because they could be produced faster. A 105 Dagger is something else: equipped with more powerful weapons, Striker pack capability, and laminated armor, they're very durable, and very dangerous. I hadn't realized they'd even produced any yet."

_"That does not strike me as a good thing,"_ Ken remarked; Murrue had forgotten his link was still open. _"Any other nasty surprises, Alicia?"_

"Unfortunately, yes; I've heard rumors they were going to equip some of the models with Trans-phase armor, for use by ace pilots. On the bright side, though," she added, "Morgan Chevalier seems to have vanished, so at least we won't have to worry about _him."_

_"What's so special about the Moonlight Mad Dog?"_

"He's like you and Commander La Flaga," Cateau replied. "He can use wired gunbarrels."

There was a brief pause. _"Oh. Yes, I can see why that would be a problem."_ On Murrue's screen, the ace shrugged. _"Well, that's not our concern right now. I'm about to launch. DiFalco, out."_

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

"Here we go, Kira," Ken called, moving to _Archangel_'s port catapult. "I guess it's time to show Azrael the error of his ways." 

"Yeah," Kira agreed quietly, as Freedom moved to the starboard flight deck. "No matter where we go, there's always another battle..."

"I know, Kira," the ace said, not unsympathetically. "Look, I know you don't like the idea... but I'm afraid there's no doubt that we're going to have to destroy virtually the entire Second Fleet. I know how you're going to react to that, but-"

"No, you don't," the younger pilot interrupted. "You're right, Ken; I _don't_ like it. But this isn't like your vengeance attack on the Fourth Naval Fleet. This isn't something like those raids you keep talking about. This is about survival, and even I'll agree that in a situation like this, it's them or us."

"And personally," Athrun put in from the Justice, "I choose us."

"Agreed," Sophia muttered, activating her Hyperion. "But I gotta say," she went on, "that acting on that choice will be easier than it might be; Azrael's being an idiot, and he doesn't even realize it. Does he have _any_ idea what he's dealing with?"

Yzak, bringing up Duel's systems, snorted. "What do you expect? He's just a Natural, after all."

"Yzak," Dearka warned, "watch your mouth."

Another snort. "Oh, right, I forget; your new girlfriend's a Natural. Forget I said anything."

_"Yzak-!"_

Ken closed his eyes. _Oh, for the days when I flew with a team that _didn't _squabble this much..._ Even as the thought struck him, Preybird's feet made solid contact with the catapult launch system, cutting off his introspective. "Bridge, this is DiFalco," he called. "Connected to catapult."

_"Roger that, Preybird,"_ Mir responded. _"Ready when you are."_

"Grimaldi Falcon, Preybird, launching."

Hot on the heels of the sleek, lethal machine's launch, Kira's Freedom got into position. "Kira Yamato, Freedom, let's do it!"

"Hyper," Dearka muttered to himself. "Way too hyper..." His heavily-modified Buster, now with the large zweihander sword connected to one side of the salvaged Raptor weapon/thruster pack, took Preybird's place in the launch queue. "Bridge, this is Buster. I'm ready to go."

_"Roger that, Buster."_ Mir hesitated a moment. _"And... be careful out there, Dearka, okay? Don't get yourself killed. I..."_ Another, longer hesitation. _"I don't want you to try and be a hero, like Tolle did..."_

He blinked in surprise at her words, and suppressed his urge to make a flippant reply. "Don't worry," he said instead. "I'm coming back... I promise."

In the starboard catapult, Yzak snorted in disgust. _Ugh! Those two are even worse than the Captain and Commander DiFalco. Just what _is _it with this crew these days, anyway?_ Too irritable to bother with formalities, he simply triggered his own launch sequence, and departed the ship.

His actions didn't go unnoticed by Mir. _"Um... I don't think he was supposed to do that..."_

Dearka laughed. "Well, that's Yzak for you. Anyway, do _I_ have clearance to launch?"

_"Huh? Oh, yeah. Go ahead, Buster."_

After the departure of the last two original G-weapons to have made it this far without even major rebuilding, Justice and Strike Rouge took their places in the launch decks. "Well," Athrun said, almost to himself, "at least everybody seems comfortable with each other now."

"If that was comfortable, I don't want to see Yzak being _un_comfortable with someone," Cagalli retorted, and then sobered. "But you're right; and it's a good thing, too. The situation we're in... We just can't afford personality conflicts now. If we start to squabble..."

"We must hang together, or surely we shall all hang separately," Athrun said dryly. "That's what the Commander said, when I mentioned it." He shook his head. "Either he's a big fan of Ben Franklin, or he's a really gloomy guy. I haven't decided which yet."

"I say he's gloomy," she said after a moment's thought, and keyed her link with the Bridge. "Cagalli Yula Athha here. Strike Rouge, launching!"

Muttering to himself in agreement, Athrun departed the ship as well. _Gloomy, yeah... but if that keeps us alive, I guess I can't complain..._

Strike and Hyperion were the last into the catapults. "Just you and me now, huh?" Mu remarked. "It's about time we launched."

"Yeah," Sophia agreed. "You know, I'm beginning to think that the _Archangel_'s biggest weakness is only having two catapults. By the time we deploy, Falcon and the others will probably already be engaged with the enemy."

"Well, then, let's hurry up," the Hawk suggested. "Can't let them have all the fun!"

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

"Well, well," Azrael murmured. "It looks like this could be more interesting than I'd anticipated. I guess Commander DiFalco managed to pick up some more mobile suits, as well. Well, at least we won't be bored, eh, Admiral?" 

"So it appears," Hamilton agreed, watched the _Archangel_ disgorge eight X-model machines, while _Kusanagi_ deployed a dozen Astrays. "On the other hand, they only seem to be sending out two ships; where are the other three? CIC?"

"We've picked up two of the others, Admiral," came the reply. "They appear to be on the periphery of the combat area; it looks like they're acting as pickets, Sir."

"Probably worried about ZAFT intervention," the admiral murmured. "The one silver lining to dealing with DiFalco is the knowledge that ZAFT wants him dead every bit as much as we do... All right, put me through to Admiral Kreitzman."

"Yes, Sir."

_"You called, Jim?"_ Kreitzman said a moment later.

"Yes, Charles. Begin deployment of the mobile suits at once; all of them." Hamilton smiled thinly. "It seems we underestimated the forces DiFalco had at his command, so we'll need all the firepower we can muster ourselves."

_"Understood. What about the ships themselves?"_

"We'll ignore the two more distant vessels for now," the admiral said thoughtfully. "If they're so worried about ZAFT, we might as well let the space monsters have them, if they show up; that will mean less trouble for us. We can also leave the fifth ship alone for now. If it's still in the harbor, we can deal with it at our leisure. As for the two currently approaching... _Dominion_ will have to handle the _Archangel;_ no other ship in the Fleet has the firepower to deal with it. You and the rest of Second Fleet can take the _Izumo."_

Kreitzman nodded. _"All right, Jim; we'll take the Orb ship. But I hope you don't mind my saying I wish we'd brought Castor along!"_

"Believe me, Admiral Kreitzman," Azrael interjected dryly, "if I'd realized how large DiFalco's private fleet had become, Vice Admiral Truman wouldn't be the only reinforcements we'd have. Frankly, I think we should've brought Sixth Fleet with us, too; but there's no time for regrets now."

_"Agreed. That can wait until _after _we've dealt with the situation. Kreitzman, out."_

* * *

Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

_"For what it's worth, we now have an ID on that _Archangel_-class,"_ Sai informed Ken. _"According to IFF data, she's the _Dominion; _and she's launching mobile suits. The three from Orb, as well as five 105 Daggers."_

"Understood," the ace acknowledged, directing his Preybird toward the enemy fleet. "What about Second Fleet? What's their status?"

_"They're launching mobile suits as well; basic Strike Daggers only, though."_

"Good." Ken switched to an all-hands frequency. "All pilots, this is DiFalco. Astray team, focus your attacks on the Strike Daggers; Mu, you, Sophia, Yzak, and Dearka go after the 105 Daggers, and the Second Fleet. _Kusanagi,_ I want you to hang back as much as possible, providing fire support when needed. When you do have to fight, concentrate your fire on the _Dominion._ Sink her, and the rest will be a cakewalk." He smiled slightly. "Murrue, I'm guessing I don't need to tell you who to go after."

_"No,"_ Murrue replied dryly, _"you don't; I can read you like a book, Ken. We'll keep _Dominion _off you as long as we can."_

"Gracias." He glanced at the Freedom and Justice; the two units stuck close, flaking his own Preybird. "Kira, Athrun, let's find those GAT-series machines, and let them know they're not welcome here."

"Roger that," Kira answered with a nod.

"Understood, Commander," Athrun agreed.

The deployment of enemy units was already evident long before they reached the rapidly-advancing Earth Forces fleet. Literally dozens of Strike Daggers streaked toward them, accompanied by a small number of 105 Daggers... and behind them, Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider.

Ken cursed to himself, seeing the incoming forces. He knew he could survive it, but not even Preybird would allow him to blaze right through them. "Kira, Athrun, get those three; I'll stick around to handle the rabble."

"Got it, Ken," Kira replied. "Take care of yourself; we can't afford to lose you now... not with GENESIS out there somewhere."

Freedom streaked on ahead, Justice at its side, and left a confused Ken behind it. _Well, at least he agrees we me about GENESIS... but he didn't even try and tell me not to kill anyone. That's... odd. On the other hand, even he admitted we're going to have to kill people today..._

Further thoughts were chopped off by the arrival of the first Strike Daggers. There were five of them, in tight formation, and all of them spitting emerald death... but they were mere mass-produced, rush-job cannon fodder, as far as Ken DiFalco was concerned.

Both Preybird's beam rifles came up, and they fired as one, sending two bright green streaks into the first Dagger. Though slightly ablated by the machine's shield, the beams were only nicked by the anti-beam defense, with the main energy discharge continuing on, shattering armor as though it were tissue paper. First the head disappeared into molten metal, and then the cockpit followed, hatch melted and blown to splinters, pilot vaporized before he knew he was dead.

Even as the Alliance pilot died, Ken was spinning to engage the next target... only to see it ripped apart by rapid-fire beams. "Hey there, brother," Sophia called. "Need some help?"

"Need? ..No. Appreciate?" Ken smiled slightly. "Yes."

"Good, 'cause there's no _way_ I'm letting you have _all_ the fun." Hyperion flipped upside-down relative to Preybird, and ripped off another burst from its beam submachine gun, tearing a Dagger to pieces.

"Well, so much for that," the ace muttered, and flung Preybird back into motion. Without taking the time to analyze his next target, he opened fire... and was surprised to see the emerald darts splash harmlessly against the enemy machine's armor, achieving absolutely nothing. "What the-"

"105 Dagger," Sophia said through gritted teeth; as she spoke, Hyperion's free hand drew a beam knife, and jabbed it into a Strike Dagger's cockpit. "Laminated armor, remember?"

Ken cursed; at himself, this time. "Right, I knew that. Leave this one to me, Sophia; you don't have the weapons to take it on."

"I could always tear it limb from limb," she offered.

He smiled; again, slightly. "Maybe you could; but I feel like exercising my blade anyway. Just keep those pipsqueak Strike Daggers off me." Without waiting for a reply, he stowed both rifles... and drew his Gerbera Straight. "En garde!"

* * *

_Vesalius,_ Bridge

* * *

Behind his mask, Rau Le Creuset raised an eyebrow, viewing the battle unfolding at Mendel. "Well," he murmured, "it appears we're not the only ones interested in Falcon's group today." 

"Indeed," Fredrik Ades agreed. "It looks like the Earth Forces got here first, Commander."

_Vesalius_ and her consorts had arrived at Mendel from a different vector, overtaking the colony from behind instead of assaulting the front, as the Earth Forces were doing. Intended as a way of sneaking up on DiFalco's people, it also served to keep them out of detection range of the distracted Earth Forces fleet, while they observed the unfolding drama.

"Well," Le Creuset said presently, "this certainly changes things. It does confirm that Falcon is indeed here, but it also changes the tactical situation some. I'd anticipated that the _Eternal_ and her consorts would end up rendezvousing with the legged ship, but this attack by the Earth Forces was... unanticipated." He glanced at his flag captain. "I don't know about you, Ades, but I think this turn of events has removed the notion of a frontal assault from the equation."

"Agreed." Ades frowned. "So now what, Commander? Do we wait until they've chewed each other up, then attack the survivors?"

The masked commander frowned, deep in thought. "No," he said at last, "I don't think so. We'll leave the ships here, certainly, but I think Commander Huckebein and I will launch on a recon sortie into Mendel itself. If we can find our primary objective before the attack, then so much the better..."

"But, Sir," the other man protested, "should you be risking yourself like that?"

Le Creuset waved a hand. "Oh, don't worry, Ades; I'll be fine. Besides, we need to know exactly what we're up against, and where to find it." He chuckled softly. "The Mendel colony... if all goes well, we should be able to bring a number of matters to a close..." He steepled his fingers in thought. "Get me the _Nacht_ _Jaeger."_

Within moments, the similarly-masked face of his young colleague appeared on his screen. _"You called, Commander Le Creuset?"_

"Yes, Commander Huckebein. I take it you've noticed the battle currently taking place here?"

Victor Tempest snorted. _"Hard to miss. What of it? Surely you're not suggesting we try to get in the middle of _that; _or do you have a death wish?"_

_You're one to talk,_ Le Creuset thought idly. "No," he said aloud, "I see no reason to attempt something so rash. Actually, what I have in mind is a reconnaissance mission into Mendel itself, perhaps via the unused harbor on our side of the colony."

Huckebein cocked his head. _"Just the two of us?"_

"I see no reason to involve anyone else at this point," Rau explained. "So, what say you?"

The younger man nodded sharply. _"Agreed. I'll prep my machine at once, and meet you outside."_

"Be careful," Le Creuset cautioned. "We're likely to run into Falcon's Preybird before this mission is done; and you know there's evidence his people tampered the with Freedom's design, making certain it couldn't become a threat to his unit."

_"That didn't escape my notice,"_ Huckebein said dryly. _"But it doesn't matter; my machine isn't quite the same as the original, anyway... and the weapons loadout is much more suitable for fighting Falcon. I'll be fine."_

"Very well, then. I'll meet you outside the Mendel colony in a few minutes."

* * *

_Nacht Jaeger,_ Hangar

* * *

Within the cockpit of the mobile suit he'd dubbed ZGMF-X10A Freedom Mk. II, Victor Tempest smiled to himself. _The Mendel colony... the place where everything began, for me, for Le Creuset... even for Falcon and his protégé. How much does Rau know, I wonder? Does he realize that Freedom's pilot is _that _Kira Yamato? Does he understand how many destinies began here? Does even he realize the whole truth of that which created him?_

He chuckled to himself. _Well, it doesn't really matter. I don't care what Rau Le Creuset does or doesn't know; all I care about it making sure _Falcon _knows the truth. He has to know what's really going on, and why... he has to know why _I _betrayed him, at the Grimaldi Front._

Of course, it was entirely possible his old commander already knew some of it; Huckebein wasn't absolutely certain, but he thought Sophia DiFalco had recovered Metzinger's files. Whether or not she'd managed to decrypt all of them, even after all this time, was open to question... as was whether or not she'd ever chosen to share her knowledge with her brother.

_Probabilities, possibilities... where Fate takes us from here is anyone's guess..._ A twinge of pain struck him, and he quickly downed a pair of pills from a container he carried; like his old boss, he had his weaknesses... _But what really matters,_ he thought, as the pain began to subside, _is that soon, one way or another, it will all be over. Soon... Falcon will kill me. I'll make sure he sees to it that no one can bring me back this time... and from then on, they won't be able to use my madness as a tool against my friend._

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Tempest pulled his helmet on, and keyed his radio. "Bridge, this is Huckebein; I'm heading out."

* * *

Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

The first 105 Dagger was completely unprepared for the massive, incredibly-keen sword that swung at it. Before the pilot could react, Preybird's Gerbera Straight bit into the Dagger's right shoulder, ripping through armor, hydraulics, and power distribution systems, resulting in the explosive loss of the entire limb. 

To the Dagger pilot's surprise, though, Preybird immediately broke off its attack, whirling away with unprecedented smoothness to attack the next target. "What... but... why?"

Ken didn't bother to look back. "I won't kill the helpless," he said coldly. "Even if they're the sort of scum who would willingly work for the Earth Forces. Go back to your ship, and you don't have to die."

The Dagger pilot would've loved to disagree with the notion that he was helpless, but with his right arm -and beam rifle- gone, all he had left was his CIWS and a single beam saber... neither of which would do him any good at all against that demonic machine.

So, reluctantly, he did the sensible thing: he turned, and jetted back to the _Dominion._

Kira, glancing back, watched in astonishment as the crippled but intact machine limped back to the fleet. It was the first time he'd ever seen his mentor deliberately leave an Earth Forces pilot alive; and it seemed to out of character he almost wondered if someone else was flying Preybird. _I guess there are some lines even he doesn't cross,_ he thought to himself. _Now, if only he'd give up the idea of blowing up fleets in job lots..._

Then a plasma blast streaked toward him, and there was no more time for such musings. "There you are," Shani Andras murmured. "I've got you now!"

"Yeah!" Orga Sabnak agreed, bringing the full might of his Calamity's firepower to bear. "Let's get him!"

"I think we've got a problem, Kira," Athrun called, drawing his beam sabers and connecting the hilts. "It's them again."

"I know," Kira acknowledged. "And there's another problem: I don't see the Raider anywhere. Who knows what it's doing." He raised his rifle. "But we can still do this. Ken?"

"I'm a little busy right now," the ace answered, dodging to the right of a hyper-impulse blast. "The other 105 Daggers have Striker packs; I'm gonna be occupied for a few minutes."

"Roger that." Kira looked over at the Justice. "I guess it's up to us right now, Athrun."

"We haven't yet faced anything we couldn't handle," his friend told him. "We won't be defeated today, either. Not by _these_ guys, anyway!" Shield in one hand, beam staff in the other, Justice streaked forward, straight at Forbidden.

Freedom's pilot nodded agreement, and charged Calamity. His beam rifle spat emerald darts, several of which missed; but one scored on the blue machine's right arm, melting a gash where a human's biceps would be.

Orga cursed, noting immediately the degradation in the arm's performance as control runs were vaporized and hydraulic lines damaged. "You little bastard!" he shouted in rage. "You'll pay for that!" His own primary weapon, the plasma-sabot bazooka, fired off a three-round burst, forcing Kira to interpose his shield.

Nearby, Athrun parried a slash from Forbidden's scythe; and saw, out of the corner of his eye, Preybird slash a 105 Dagger in half... and then pause uncertainly, before dashing away, back toward the Mendel colony. "Hey, Commander!" he called. "Where are you going?"

"I have urgent business elsewhere," Ken replied, increasing speed. "The Earth Forces are not the only threat here today. You two continue without me."

"Roger that, Ken," Kira responded, before Athrun could. He didn't know what was going on, but he trusted his mentor's judgment enough to know that if he said it was urgent, it was.

* * *

Even as Kira and Athrun fought against Calamity and Forbidden, Mu and Dearka tangled with the Strike Daggers, while firing the occasional potshot at Second Fleet warships. "Well, isn't this just great," Dearka muttered, swinging Buster's enormous zweihander. "We're outnumbered by, what, ten to one?" The weapon encountered a moment's resistance within the Dagger, then tore out the other side, leaving two sparking, lifeless halves to drift through space. "Just once I'd like to face the enemy on even terms." 

"Yeah," Mu agreed, using the multiple wired gunbarrels of his Striker pack to target a _Drake_-class escort ship. "Can't say I like the odds, either; and I've been dealing with long odds even longer than you have. At least when you were _chasing _us you had numerical superiority." The four remote energy weapons zeroed in on the _Drake_'s Bridge, fired four precisely-targeted beams, and retreated... while the unlucky ship's Bridge vanished, and the entire vessel vanished in a ball of fire, jagged metals fragments spewing everywhere.

Yzak flashed past then, firing all his assault shroud's weapons at once and turning a Strike Dagger from an efficient weapon of war into jagged fragments. "They're still no match for us," he asserted, boosting away again. "They're just Earth Forces garbage."

"Don't underestimate them just because they're Naturals," Mu warned him. "If Morgan Chevalier or Ed Harrelson were here, we'd be in bigger trouble."

"Ahh, forget it," Duel's pilot grumbled. "They _aren't_ here, so we've got nothing to worry about."

Dearka shook his head. "Same old Yzak..."

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of..." Mu cartwheeled the Strike to one side, and put an emerald beam through another Strike Dagger. "The kid's- Wait; what, the..." An unpleasantly-familiar feeling grew in his mind, and he cursed inwardly, realizing now why the Preybird had suddenly taken off for the colony itself. "That feeling... is _he_ here?"

Dearka blinked in surprise, seeing the Strike suddenly reel in its gunbarrels, and rush off toward Mendel. "Hey, pops! Where do you think you're going?"

"Don't call me pops!" Mu snapped back. "We've got ZAFT forces here!"

The younger pilot winced. He'd had to fight ZAFT only once since joining the _Archangel_'s crew, and that was at Alaska, where shooting them down was the best thing he could do for them. _I'd rather not do it again,_ he thought, _but... I made my choice, and I'm sticking with it to the end..._

"Wait up," he called. "I'll go with-"

A burst of machine gun fire cut him, and maniacal laughter came over the radio. "Now I've gotcha!" Clotho Buer shouted. "Terminate!"

Dearka cursed. "Go," he told Mu. "I'll hold this guy off."

"Thanks," the Hawk acknowledged, not even bothering to look back. "I owe you."

"I'll be sure to collect," Dearka muttered, and raised his guns. "Come and get me!"

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Target Gottfrieds on the _Drake _at fifteen mark twenty-two," Natarle ordered. "Fire!" 

At her command, Romero Pal triggered the ship's massive energy cannons, shattering the target's side armor like an egg shell, triggering a chain reaction that ripped it apart. Flying debris and the sheer explosive power also had an unexpected result, tearing a neighboring _Nelson_ to shreds.

"What about the _Dominion?"_ Murrue asked. "Where is she?"

"She seems to be hanging back for now, Ma'am," Sai answered. "The Second Fleet is acting as screen for both _Dominion_ and the _Agamemnon_-class flagship, the _Independence."_

"Azrael must not want to risk his own hide just yet," Cateau said in disgust. "Commander DiFalco's final attack back at Orb must've scared the man out of his wits." She snorted. "Coward."

"Yes..." Murrue frowned. "Speaking of Ken, where _is_ he? I haven't seen the sort of violence that usually accompanies his attacks against the Earth Forces..."

As if on cue, the main screen lit up with Waltfeld and Lacus. _"Hey,"_ the Desert Tiger called, _"what's going on? The Strike and Preybird just shot through here; where are they going? Commander La Flaga said something about ZAFT forces..."_

She felt a chill. "It's Le Creuset," she murmured, almost to herself. "Ken and Mu... they can feel him, when he's nearby. They don't know how... but that must be how they knew there were ZAFT forces here. They've gone to intercept Le Creuset."

Lacus winced. _"That's not good,"_ she said in a low voice. _"If Le Creuset is here, after us, Victor Tempest is probably here as well... and that man is one of the few who can make Commander DiFalco lose his temper. If that happens..."_

Murrue nodded unhappily. "I know. But... there's nothing we can do for them right now."

"Concur, Captain," Natarle said tightly. "If ZAFT is here, they're clear on the other side of the colony, and I don't think we can spare anything from fighting the Earth Forces."

"Yes..." The captain shook herself. "Continue the mission; we have no other choice. The only way we can help them is to first drive off the Second Fleet." _Be careful out there, Ken,_ she added silently. _Don't let them get the better of you; we still need you..._

* * *

Author's note: Briefly a sanctuary, the Mendel colony has become a battleground. Now ZAFT forces have drawn away two of True ZAFT's units, and the are about to learn the truth of the past... 

My sincerest apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I attempted to update Saturday night -yes, it was going to be a day late anyway, but that's because of sheer length- but for the past two nights, I've been unable to upload anything. Now that everything seems to be working properly again, though, it shouldn't happen again.

I hope this is better than the last chapter; in retrospect, I realize it was a little dull. Necessary for set-up, but dull. I suppose the beginning of this chapter may be, as well, but I hope the battle makes up for it. And the _next_ chapter will be anything but dull, I assure you. -Solid Shark


	38. Chapter 38: Raven's Fall

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Mendel Colony, Secondary Harbor, July 12th, C.E. 71

* * *

Two mobile suits flew swiftly through the harbor that lay on the opposite side of the Mendel Colony from where True ZAFT had set up their base camp. They had come alone, without any backup... because both pilots sensed something familiar... unpleasantly so. 

"Rau Le Creuset," Mu muttered to himself, in Strike's cockpit. "Are we ever gonna be rid of that guy? He always turns up at the most inconvenient times..."

"Not for much longer," Ken replied, voice grim. "This time, he's not getting away. I'll make sure of _that."_

"You'll have to take a number; I owe him for causing me so much trouble, ever since Endymion."

"You weren't the only one to come off badly at Endymion because of Rau, Mu," the ace said sharply. "We'll do it together, how's that?"

"Sounds good to me," Mu agreed. "Of course, first we have to _find_ him."

"Agreed... Wait." Ken's eyes narrowed, as his detection systems noted incoming units. "Two heat sources detected," he said tersely. "One matches a GuAIZ; the other..." He stiffened. "Mu, that signature looks like the Freedom."

Mu's eyes narrowed. "You're right; same basic frame... but there's something different about it." The machines were coming into visual range now, and one of them was indeed a GuAIZ, painted pure white; obviously a commander's model. The other...

It had the same basic frame as the Freedom, but the phase-shift had been changed to an overall black color; and where the Freedom was intended as a long-range interceptor, this was obviously more oriented toward close combat. It retained the shoulder-mounted plasma cannons, hip-mounted rail cannons, and Lacerta beam sabers, but it had no rifle. Where the Lupus would've been kept was a sheath, containing a purely physical blade... a blade which Ken recognized.

"I know that weapon," he hissed to Mu, and switched to a ZAFT frequency. "Is that you, Victor? I can't think of anyone else who could possibly have a weapon like that."

Low laughter came back over the radio. "Hello, Falcon. I'd hoped you'd come to see me. Shall we finish what we started?"

Instead of answering directly, Ken glanced at the Strike. "Mu, I've changed my mind. Go get Rau; I've got an even more personal battle to fight."

"Roger that," Mu agreed, with a smile that contained no humor at all. "Cut him to ribbons; I've got Le Creuset."

Strike boosted away, and Preybird faced off against the modified Freedom. "All right, Victor," Ken said coldly. "You want to fight? Let's fight."

Tempest smiled. "Great, Falcon... just great. Come and get me... and no more holding back! I don't want you disabling me like you have every other time we've fought."

"Don't worry. I've had it with you, Victor; it's time to finish what we started. This time..." Preybird's hand went to its left hip, and snatched out the Gerbera Straight. "...It will be to the death!"

Tempest drew his own version of the Gerbera Straight -a blade of darker metal, shot through with blue as though made of Damascene steel- and rushed to meet Preybird.

The clash of swords echoed...

* * *

Mu La Flaga put all thoughts of the impending duel between master and pupil out of his mind, and he closed in on Rau Le Creuset. _You've been an irritant for too long, Le Creuset,_ he thought grimly. _Today's the day I take you down for good._

Within the white GuAIZ, Rau Le Creuset smiled to himself. _I know this feeling... you're near, Mu. Ah, how wonderful..._ He raised an eyebrow, though, when he saw the mobile suit that awaited him. "Well, well," he called. "So _you're_ the one piloting that machine now... _Mu La Flaga!"_

An emerald dart spat from the GuAIZ's beam rifle, forcing Strike to dodge to one side. "Don't think this'll end like last time, Le Creuset," Mu snarled. "You're not retreating like you did at Heliopolis. This time I'm going to take you down, you jackal!" His gunbarrels spiraled out, already spitting green death.

Le Creuset chuckled. "And just how were you thinking of going about that?" he asked, deftly maneuvering around the deadly rain of energy. "Don't forget, it took the Strike pilot himself to even disable me at Heliopolis; what good do you think _you'll_ do?"

"Good enough!" Strike spun sideways, gunbarrels on full automatic fire, while he added his beam rifle's power to the mix.

Rau simply laughed, and interposed his machine's claw-equipped shield, the anti-beam coated surface spattering the bolts of energy harmlessly. "You'll have to do better than _that,_ Mu," he said mockingly. "ZAFT's learned a lot from the weapons captured at Heliopolis, you know!" He opened fire with his GuAIZ's large rifle, spitting a burst of green fire back at the G-weapon.

Mu cursed when the beam impacted; despite his best efforts, it struck his upper-right gunbarrels, ripping through it and detonating it completely. As he spun the remaining three through an evasive pattern, he also drew in the line connecting his machine to the destroyed gunbarrel; leaving it free ran the risk of it becoming tangle, and severely impairing his machine's performance... or worse.

"I hope you don't think that'll stop me, Le Creuset!" he called, dodging another green blast. "That would've worked against a mobile armor, but I've got a lot more options now!"

"So prove it!" Le Creuset taunted, and spun away, racing toward another part of the harbor.

"I'm not letting you get away _that_ easy," the Hawk hissed to himself, and took off in pursuit... totally unaware now of the battle unfolding nearby.

* * *

Blade clashed against blade, and Huckebein the Raven grinned. "Excellent, Falcon," he whispered. "A true battle at last! How does it feel to finally face an opponent whose machine can actually threaten your masterpiece?" 

"I'd like it a lot better if you weren't threatening my mission," Ken grunted back, Preybird straining to press its blade forward. "You have no idea what you're doing, Victor; no idea at all of what I'm trying to do... what I'm trying to stop!"

"Au contraire," Tempest replied drawing back his weapons, and firing a burst of plasma from his Balaena cannons. "I know _exactly_ what you're trying to do. It's GENESIS, isn't it?"

The ace inhaled sharply, as Preybird's light-wave barrier took the red-orange discharge. "You _knew?"_

"Didn't take a genius to figure it out," the masked pilot told him. "Just took someone who knew you, who remembered your theoretical work on interstellar engines... who remembered what gamma radiation could do, if ever it was focused properly." He dove back in, back slashing down.

Ken snorted, contemptuous... but his eye widened in surprise as the weapon ignored his light-wave defense completely, to glance off a phase-shift-protected arm. "How did you-"

Huckebein laughed. "So there _is_ something the great Falcon of Grimaldi doesn't know, eh? Heh; nobody ever told you that something covered in anti-beam coating will go right through a light-wave barrier?" He laughed even louder. "Oh, the irony; the Falcon taken down not because he was stupid, but because he was ignorant!"

"I'm not dead yet, Huckebein," the ace hissed, sweeping in a circle strafe, lunging in for another slash. "I've still got a lot of life left in me; and besides, you've forgotten that even a Gerbera can't penetrate phase-shift."

"I've forgotten nothing," Tempest replied, catching the thrust on his own blade and diverting it. "Maybe I can't hurt your limbs with this- but I can still destroy your 'impenetrable' defense!"

Ken flung Preybird backwards, as he attempted to adjust for his error. _Idiot! Birdbrain! This is what happens when you miss a variable! You of all people can't afford to be fallible!_

Then he realized that misjudging the light-wave barrier's capabilities wasn't his only error. _Fighting a phase-shift-equipped machine with a physical blade... that's not real smart, dummy... On the other hand, Victor's being just as dumb._

Huckebein blinked, seeing Preybird suddenly sheathe its Gerbera, draw a saber hilt from above the left rail cannon, and ignite the blade of frozen fire. "What are you doing, Falcon?" he questioned. "Afraid to face me sword-to-sword?"

"Not at all, Victor," Ken replied. "It's just that I suddenly realized I've been fighting in the wrong manner; I got too used to dealing with mass-produced cannon fodder." He drew back the saber, readying it for a backhand blow. "I think it's time we ended this, don't you?"

Tempest snarled, and with a speed that surprised the ace -given the limitations he himself had imposed on the original Freedom's design- slipped to one side, narrowly avoiding the slash. "You'll have to do better, Falcon," he told his former teacher, bringing his Gerbera flashing down. "An arthritic moose could've dodged that!"

"Your point?" Ken grimaced as the blow passed right through his defenses, but he accepted even the damaged incurred when the Gerbera cut into his light-wave projector, severing circuits, sending out fragments of debris, and completely shutting down the system... because it gave him an opening of his own.

The fiery blade came up again, and the modified Freedom's sword rose to meet it, in a mighty clash. But something unexpected was happening: as the bright energy sword struck the dark, blue-streaked metal, the Gerbera began to crack... and, even as Huckebein cried out in shock, the blade shattered completely. "What- _How did you-!"_

"You're a good pilot, Victor," Ken told him, boosting away from the falling fragments of beam-deflection sword, "but you forgot your limitations. Tom Delaney could've forged that metal into a deadly weapon, but a swordsmith_you_ are not. You tried to imitate your own blade on a massive scale; but not only did you fail to create a truly strong blade, you also forgot that anti-beam coating, while allowing the weapon to duel with a beam saber, would not save it from the kinetic energy. The weaknesses in your flawed weapon doomed it from the beginning."

"So what now, Falcon?" the half-mad ZAFT pilot asked, reaching for one of his own sabers. "How does it all end, eh?"

"Like this."

Before the modified Freedom's hand could reach the saber's hilt, Preybird rushed forward, and its blade of frozen fire drew a bright arc in the air...

* * *

Le Creuset noted the sudden disappearance of Tempest's signal with interest, but he didn't particularly care. _If Falcon's finally managed to dispose of Huckebein, _I_ won't shed any tears..._

"Come back here, you jackal!" Mu shouted over the radio. "Or do you think I'm actually going to let you get away?"

"Oh, don't worry; I never thought anything of the sort." Rau smiled. "But you know, Mu, if you should happen to succeed in shooting me down, I daresay this place is an appropriate one. Wouldn't you agree, O Hawk of Endymion?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mu shot back, finally getting into range to fire another barrage from his remaining gunbarrels. "And I don't care, either!"

The masked commander laughed. "What a pity, Mu; because it's actually quite a crime that you don't know. But don't worry; I'll make sure you know the truth before you die." Energy splattered against his shield, while other emerald darts streaked past him. "It's your right... to know the truth about your own family!" He triggered another blast of his own, and laughed again. "I certainly don't need to worry about _you_ killing _me_ before the story can be told; after all, the child cannot hope to defeat the parent!"

The Hawk froze for an instant. _Child...? Parent...? What's this psycho ranting about now?_ The momentary hesitation was unfortunate... and damaging, as the GuAIZ's burst immolated another gunbarrel.

"Ha!" Le Creuset laughed. "See? You hesitate far too easily, Mu; yet more proof that you don't have what it takes to defeat me."

"Shut up, you bastard!" Mu twisted around, allowing yet another emerald beam strike his shield; then he cursed as a follow up grazed Strike's left arm, melting a groove and damaging the hydraulics. The limb fell limp, useless, and the shield dropped from unpowered fingers. "Don't think I'm going to give up now, Le Creuset! I'm just getting started!"

Le Creuset snorted in derision. "You've got no backup, Mu. Admit it; you're finished!"

"Never!" Strike's remaining gunbarrels deployed in a holding pattern, functioning as another layer of protection even as they fired; and the duel between rivals continued...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Though the battle was beginning to turn in the _Archangel_'s favor, Murrue Ramius' face was drawn with worry. The Second Fleet was slowly being driven off or destroyed, _Dominion_ hadn't even deigned to come into range, and the Earth Forces mobile suits were being decimated, with -so far- no losses to the True ZAFT forces... but two of their pilots remained unaccounted for. 

"Any word yet on Ken or Mu?" she asked worriedly. "Have they reported in yet?"

Flay shook her head regretfully. "No, Captain; there's been no word from them since they entered the colony, and our signals aren't reaching to the harbor."

Natarle frowned. "That isn't good," she said slowly. "If they've run into something there that they can't handle, it could spell difficulties for _us,_ as well." She hesitated. "And if Commander DiFalco decided his own capture was imminent, he may have..."

"Suicided?" Murrue's lips quirked. "Not by cyanide, if that's what you're worried about." With a slight smile, she reached into a pocket, and withdrew a small, glass capsule. "Leanne managed to appropriate this before the battle; if he wants to kill himself, he'll have to do it the hard way."

Mir blinked. "He, ah... may not be happy with you when he finds that out, Ma'am."

"I hope to get it back to him before he realizes its missing." The Captain sighed. "But that, of course, presupposes that he... he gets back here in one piece."

_"He'll be fine, Captain,"_ Cagalli reassured her, appearing on an armrest screen. _"It'd take an army to bring down my partner; they're probably just busy."_

Murrue nodded. "Yes... Yes, you're probably right. Thank you, Cagalli."

* * *

Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

Freedom flew a complicated corkscrew maneuver, weaving through another barrage from Calamity. _You're not taking me down today!_ Kira thought, pausing to fire his full ranged armament at the Earth Forces machine. _I won't let a murder like you have your way!_

Nearby, Athrun tangled with the Forbidden, repeatedly parrying scythe attacks with his beam staff. "We can't keep this up, Kira," he said through gritted teeth. "There's just too many of them!"

"I know," Kira replied, voice grim; even as he spoke, an enormous discharge from Calamity's Scylla flashed past him, the corona of the beam scrambling his optics for an instant. "But we can't give up now; and if we can get these guys away, they'll at least have to regroup."

"Yeah," Justice's pilot agreed, "but the question is... how do we do that?"

"I don't know," his friend admitted. "I almost hate to say it, but I wish Ken was here. He wouldn't have much trouble with these guys..."

"Kira, look out!"

Dearka's frantic call cut through the conversation like a knife, and Kira's head snapped around as he suddenly realized he was surrounded. Calamity came at him from the front, while Raider -with Buster in pursuit- came from "above", and the remaining 105 Daggers swarmed him.

Athrun was still busy with Forbidden, and while Dearka's Death Blossoms forced Clotho's machine to weave madly, reducing accuracy greatly, there were still too many adversaries, all beginning to fire at once...

Behind Kira Yamato's eyes, an amethyst seed bounced and shattered.

Freedom's shield suddenly flung out, catching a dozen incoming beams and knocking a Dagger's head off as it passed, while the beam rifle was simply left to drift in space. Hands descended to the hilts of beam sabers, and twin blades of frozen flame flashed into life.

Orga, who had just been about to unleash the full fury of his ranged weapons, blinked in confusion, for his target was no longer clearly defined. Instead, Freedom had gone into a rapid spin, rotating so fast Calamity's targeting systems couldn't get a lock. "What the-!"

His exclamation was cut off abruptly, for the fiery circle that had surrounded Freedom once again resolved into twin swords of fire... which burned through both Calamity's arms, severing them completely, while Freedom's feet lashed out in a thruster-powered kick, forcing the machine backwards.

Kira used the resulting equal -and opposite- reaction to boost toward the 105 Daggers... which, quite abruptly, had something _else_ to deal with.

_"Leave him alone, you bastards!"_ Cagalli shouted, both of the IWSP's antiship swords flashing out. In her fury at the attack on her boyfriend, the Earth Alliance pilots didn't stand a chance; heads, limbs, and torsos all went flying away, leaving the machines to either drift, dead in space... or simply explode, _literally_ dead in space.

At the same moment, Dearka finally managed to use the distraction to open fire with his beam rifle and all four Death Blossoms, reducing all of Raider's weapons to scrap and forcing Clotho to retreat.

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Azrael stared, uncomprehending, at the sudden carnage that had erupted before his eyes. The Second Fleet had already taken a beating, thanks in large part to the traitorous _Archangel,_ but this... 

Admiral Hamilton, while equally stunned, was also a professional military man, however, and began barking orders within moments. "Fire signal flares," he ordered. "Message the Second Fleet to begin tactical withdrawal; rendezvous at Point Bravo."

The Director's head whipped around at those words. "Wait a minute, Admiral," he said sharply. "Are you suggesting we just give up?"

"No, Director," Hamilton said patiently, "I'm not. But we need to regroup before we make another attack; the losses to both our ships and our mobile suits have wrought havoc with the chain of command; if we continue the engagement under these circumstances, what little unit cohesion we have left will quickly dissolve entirely."

_"I agree with Jim, Director,"_ Kreitzman said heavily, from _Independence._ _"We haven't lost yet, but we _will_ if we don't withdraw for now."_

Azrael opened his mouth to protest further, then closed it with a sigh. "Very well, then," he said at last. "I guess there's not much point in recruiting professional admirals if I don't listen to them; and from my dealings in the business world, I know what happens without a clear hierarchy." He nodded unhappily. "Go ahead with the withdrawal, Admiral... but we'll be back, and soon."

"Of course, Director," Hamilton agreed, and continued issuing instructions to the survivors.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"They're withdrawing, Captain," Natarle reported, and Murrue sank back into her chair with a sigh. 

"That's good news," she said quietly. "I guess we were a little tougher than they expected... though I suppose they'll be back. Anyway, signal our own machines to return." The captain glanced back at Flay. "I don't suppose there's been any word yet from Mu, or Ken?"

The redhead shook her head. "Still nothing, Ma'am. There's been no contact since they reentered the colony."

Kira's face appeared on Murrue's right armrest screen. _"I'd better go after them, Murrue,"_ he said quietly. _"This isn't like either of them; if Ken's late, he may be in trouble."_

She looked at him. "Are you sure, Kira?"

_"The Second Fleet is withdrawing,"_ he pointed out. _"After the losses we just inflicted, it'll take them hours to regroup. We _need_ to find out what's going on at the other harbor, Murrue, while we still have time."_

_"He's right,"_ Athrun put in. _"I'll go, too."_

_"No,"_ Kira said quickly. _"We can't risk too much of our strength right now; if Mu and Ken are already in trouble, we can't afford to weaken ourselves even more."_

_"You sure?"_

_"Either it's something I can handle,"_ he said unflinchingly, _"or it's something bad enough that we can't risk losing even more of our machines."_ He looked out at Murrue again. _"Please, Murrue; I need to go there."_

She nodded slowly. "All right, Kira. I know Ken said he didn't want anyone attempting to rescue him, if he was captured; but we don't know if it's that bad yet, and he's always saying you never leave comrades behind. Go... and thank you."

Kira smiled. _"No problem, Murrue."_

The pilot's image disappeared, and Freedom turned away from the _Archangel,_ arcing back toward the Mendel colony ahead of the ships.

Minutes later, Sophia arrived on the Bridge, still in her flightsuit, looking weary but hopeful. "Well, we've won this round," she said tiredly. "Looks like maybe we can win this thing after all." She raised an eyebrow. "By the way, I didn't see Freedom when I landed; where's Kira off to?"

"He's going to see what's keeping Ken and Mu," Murrue said, tone lighter than she felt. "Maybe they got lost, on their way to the other harbor..."

Sophia went white. "Did you say the other harbor?" she said hoarsely.

The captain blinked, puzzled by her friend's reaction. "Yes, why?"

The Kestrel swallowed. "Oh, man... if I'd known that's where they went, I'd have gone instead of Kira... Even Falcon should never have gone there..."

"What's wrong, Commander?" Natarle asked, concerned. "What is it about that place that has you worried; and why them, in particular?"

Sophia hung her head. "There are secrets there, in the dark corners of Mendel... things better left in the dust of the past, never brought to light. Things that Kira Yamato should never see... and maybe things Falcon shouldn't, either..."

"What are you talking about, Sophia?" Murrue demanded. "What's there, in Mendel?"

"A facility called GARM," the Kestrel whispered. "Genetic Advanced Reproductive Medical Research and Development. The place where Ulen Hibiki performed his twisted experiments... the place where Heinrich Metzinger learned the art of genetic engineering, and, together with Hibiki, created the artificial womb..." She looked up, meeting Murrue's eyes with a haunted look. "The place where Kira was born..."

* * *

Mendel Colony, Secondary Harbor

* * *

Sliced nearly in half by the fiery blade wielded by Preybird, Victor Tempest's Freedom Mk. II crashed to the ground, a sparking ruin of mangled armor and circuitry. 

Within the cockpit, Huckebein the Raven coughed, as smoke from frying electronics drifted through his shattered helmet. _Nice one... Falcon,_ he thought to himself. _You almost... succeeded this time. But... since I'm still alive, I guess the final battle will be the same as the first... blade to blade..._

Painfully, using muscles sore from the rough impact, the masked pilot unstrapped, and pulled himself to the mangled hatch.

Nearby, Preybird may a far more controlled landing, coming to rest on one knee about a hundred meters from the wreckage. Within moments, the machine's hatch opened, and Ken leapt lightly to the ground. A normal human would've come out of it with -at best- various sprains, and more probably broken legs, but his bioengineered muscles managed the landing with relative ease, though he still grunted from the impact.

The ace also felt something wrong within his chest; something with his breathing. He suspected the destruction of his primary light-wave barrier had sent feedback up through the power system, causing a minor surge in the connection between the generator and his prosthetics. _My lung's not working quite right,_ he diagnosed. _What wonderful timing..._

Still, Ken ignored the infirmity; he had other things to worry about, and he drew Griever as he saw the modified Freedom's hatch open.

Tempest climbed painfully out, and set foot on the ground a precise ten meters from his former commander's position. "Hello, Falcon," he said quietly, the madness firmly held in check, by both drugs and sheer determination. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he had to do this... he had to talk to his teacher while he could.

"Victor," Ken acknowledged, and tilted his head. "You sound... different," he remarked. "Not exactly the ravings I've come to expect from you."

Huckebein inclined his head. "I know. And I don't think it'll last... but while it does, I have to tell you why."

"'Why' what?" the ace asked. "What's going on here, Raven?"

The masked pilot breathed deeply, fighting to maintain control. "I'm crazy, Falcon," he said at last, choosing his words with care. "I know it; my mind's been going for a long time now. The day, on the Grimaldi Front... the battle that made you decide to transfer me, that was the first time it took over. Then again... when I tried to kill you." He smiled slightly. "You couldn't know how glad I as that you managed to kill me, Falcon... or how furious I was when they brought me back."

"I don't understand," Ken said honestly.

"I'm too dangerous to let live, Falcon... Ken." Tempest touched the scar that came from under his mask, then tore the mask itself away. "I've become something I never wanted to be... and only the drugs are holding it in check right now. I... I don't have much time left," he went on, single eye meeting Ken's. "You never knew, but... I'm not like you, Ken. I'm a monster, something that has to be destroyed... and something with a built-in timer on my life. It wasn't how it was meant to be, but it's how it is." He paused, struggling for the right words, and then finally said it outright. "I'm a clone, Ken; a clone of a man who was already in his forties when I was created. My genes are vintage... and they're wearing out."

Ken stared in disbelief. "A _clone?"_

Huckebein nodded. "Yeah. I... I don't have time to explain it all; I can already feel it creeping up on me again, getting past the drugs..." He reached into a pocket of his flightsuit, withdrew a disc, and tossed it to his teacher. "When you get back to your ship, read that; it'll tell you everything."

The ace looked at the disc, then back at his wayward student. The story was difficult for him to believe -he had never trusted the words of madmen- and yet... _He's telling the truth. I can see it in his eye... But what does he want me to do? Is that why he...?_

He cleared his throat. "So, what now, Victor?"

Tempest drew his blade, named Requiem. "There's no choice, Ken," he said quietly. "You'll have to kill me. It's the only way... to set me free. And to set _you_ free from my curse. If you don't strike me down now, I'll continue to come after you, whether the sane part of me wants to or not."

Griever slowly came up. "You know how this battle will end," Ken said quietly, not needing to point out that he'd taught the younger pilot swordplay in the first place. "Are you really willing to die?"

"Better death by sword than by organ degeneration," Huckebein pointed out sensibly. "Just remember one thing: however it is that you actually finish it, cut off my head before you leave. I... I don't want them to have any chance of resurrecting me again."

_I've never heard anyone talk about his own impending death with such calm,_ Ken thought, considering his own response. _I've never before thought about _wanting_ to die... nor about what could drive a man to that, despite wanting to live a normal life..._

"All right," Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco said calmly. "Let's get this over with, Victor." Griever settled into a guard position, he opened his mouth... and uttered the inhuman ascending wail of the peregrine falcon's hunting call.

* * *

The running battle between Strike and the white GuAIZ had taken its toll on both machines; even Le Creuset's unit now sported several melted gashes from gazing hits. But Strike had born the brunt of it, and was now in serious danger of losing this fight. 

_And to a mass-produced unit, at that,_ Mu thought bitterly. _Of all the..._ He was down to a single gunbarrel now, and his beam rifle had taken a slash from the GuAIZ's beam claws, when Le Creuset essayed a rushing attack. That left him with just one beam emitter in the gunbarrel, his CIWS, and the Armor Schneiders.

_And,_ he thought, when he heard Le Creuset's chuckling come over the radio again, _his cackling isn't helping..._

This time, however, their battle was not the reason for the masked commander's amusement. "Look down there, Mu," he suggested, his machine's head briefly turning toward the distant ground. "It appears the Falcon and the Raven are about to have their final confrontation. Ha; I wonder who will win this time? At Grimaldi, Falcon did severe damage to Huckebein's body; but in the process nearly lost an eye himself, and he's since lost more at Endymion. Hm; want to stay and watch?"

"Shut up," Mu hissed, his lone gunbarrel firing yet again, only to see the beam scorch past the GuAIZ's head. "Are you talking, or fighting, jackal?"

Le Creuset merely laughed again, while the Hawk's stomach clenched. _Be careful, little brother; I know you're good, but last time he nearly cost you an eye... and I'd hate to have to explain to Murrue that you're not coming back._

_On the other hand,_ he thought, as a final beam pierced his last gunbarrel, _I may not be _able_ to tell her that... Bastard!_

Ejecting the now-useless Striker pack -and hoping fleetingly that they could either repair of replace the unit- Mu rushed in for a final charge, the Strike's hands drawing the Armor Schneider knives as he did so. _I'm not going down without a fight!_

Within the GuAIZ's cockpit, Le Creuset smirked. "Do you honestly expect that to do any good, Mu?" he mocked. "A pair of combat knives... Falcon may've managed to destroy a BuCUE with a blind throw of those weapons, but you've no chance at all here." On the heels of those words, he fired off the pair of grapplers his machine mounted.

Mu ignored them as he rushed forward, since the weapons would ordinarily have been repelled with ease by his phase-shift... but Rau Le Creuset knew what he was doing. The ZAFT commander unerringly directed the grappling claws into gashes in the Strike's armor, melted through by energy fire. They struck, digging deep into the standard armor beneath, as well as the hydraulics... and the power systems.

Something exploded in Mu's cockpit, and he grunted in pain as a jagged pieced of debris pierced his side, drawing blood. "Urgh!"

Another secondary explosion went off within the mobile suit, and its right arm fell away, while the left dropped its knife... and now Le Creuset's GuAIZ began to move in for the kill...

* * *

Blade met blade in another furious clash; but this was different. This time, instead one mobile suit based on a deliberately-delimited design against another, which had been intended to dominate any battlefield it stepped onto, it was battle between two men, with nothing between them but cold steel. 

As Griever met Requiem once again, there was neither anger nor hatred between the two combatants. Madness has overtaken the Raven the moment steel cut through the air, but it was madness tempered by the discipline of the blade; an intent to kill without any taint of fury. A battle of wills, purified by the steel itself, combat in the tradition both warriors had been inducted into. Master against apprentice, cold logic against fiery madness... Falcon against Raven.

The Falcon sidestepped a slash meant for his right arm, feeling the rush of air as Requiem swished past a centimeter from his body. The Raven quickly recovered, snapping Requiem up to stop Griever just in front of his face, and lashed out with a foot, striking the Falcon in the gut.

The Falcon fell back a pace, left hand briefly going to his stomach in an instinctive reaction, but his own counter was swift, his blade sweeping a flat arc for the Raven's chest. Requiem came down, striking the upturned flat of Griever, forcing the katana down, and a balled left fist drove toward the Falcon's face.

The gray-clad warrior danced to one side, his own hand coming up in a slap to the side of the Raven's arm, deflecting the blow into empty air. His hand dropped once again to Griever's hilt, he leapt, bioengineered muscles carrying him over the Raven's head, twisting around to land facing the other warrior's back.

The Raven spun around in the same moment, blades flashing in flat arcs at each other's throats. Edge grated against edge, and then they turned at right angles to each other, stopping equidistant from the warriors. Muscles strained, blade pressed hard against blade, and Griever, through its wielder's bioengineered muscles, began to gain the upper hand... until the Raven drove an elbow into his master's chest.

Mechanical lung already weakened, the Falcon doubled over, gasping for breath, and Griever fell from guard position. Requiem arced up... and cut through the warrior's eyes...

* * *

Le Creuset laughed, preparing to fire on last, fatal shot at the Strike. "I told you there was no way you could defeat me, Mu," he told the other pilot. "You should've listened to me, and left while you still had the chance." He smiled, savoring the moment as he began to pull the trigger... and then turned in shock, as a familiar sensation filled his head. "What the-!" 

Like a guardian angel, a blue-winged shape streaked across the harbor's sky, firing a beam rifle. The first emerald green dart missed, but the second tore the GuAIZ's head off completely.

"It's the Freedom!" Le Creuset managed, before Kira Yamato came swooping in, beam saber in hand. The fiery blade finished what the beam rifle had started, first melting through both the GuAIZ's arms, then sweeping down to finish off its legs, leaving the machine a literal basket case.

The GuAIZ fell from the air, and the Strike followed.

In Freedom's cockpit, Kira watched them drop, and chased after them. He'd had difficulty just finding Mu in the first place; he'd come across Preybird along with the way, but with Ken obviously engaged in single combat with his old student on the ground, he moved on, and located Mu just in time. _But what is he doing_ now? Kira wondered._That thing's finished; we should just get out of here..._

But Mu was in no mood to let Le Creuset get away yet again. Even as the GuAIZ hit the ground, and its hatch opened, he was bringing the Strike down in a -relatively- controlled manner, unstrapping, and drawing a sidearm, before popping his own hatch. _I'm not letting you get away today, you jackal,_ he thought viciously, and began to climb out.

He ducked back down just in time to avoid getting his head blown off. "I should've expected you'd be this persistent, Mu!" Le Creuset called. "Fine, then! Follow me!" Leaping off the shattered remains of his GuAIZ, he charged off toward a nearby structure, one that gave Mu a vague sense of foreboding.

"Where do you think you're going, you jackal?" Mu demanded. Holding his injured side, he carefully climbed down the Strike's side.

"Let me show you!" the ZAFT commander replied. He fired off another pair of shots, then raced toward the building. "Come with me! I myself shall deliver your Requiem!"

He vanished inside, and the Hawk cursed, before heading off in pursuit.

Freedom touched down a moment later. "Wait, Mu!" Kira called, swiftly popping his own hatch. "Don't follow him too far!" Reluctantly carrying a weapon of his own, he lowered himself to the ground, and took off running... little realizing the horrors he would find inside the GARM facility ahead of him.

* * *

The Raven stared down at the kneeling Falcon, as blood dripped from his former teacher's eye sockets. The man had cried out once, from the pain, but now remained silent, as though awaiting his own death with all the calm he could muster. 

"You're a sad sight, Falcon," he said quietly, his mad side doing the talking. "Or maybe I shouldn't put it quite that way, since you'll never see anything again. But you really _are_ pathetic. First you lose to you own pupil, and then you just give up, waiting for death to take you..." He began to lift Requiem. "Last chance, Sensei."

The Falcon simply knelt there, consumed by the pain. The only injury that could compare to this was when he lost his heart and lung at Endymion, and there he'd simply blacked out. Now he remained conscious, hideously aware of his maiming, knowing he had lost. _Can't even see to take my cyanide capsule,_ he thought, struggling to maintain coherent thought through the pain. _Well... he's about to kill me anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter..._

_Goodbye, Murrue._

Then something within him noted a change in the air currents around him, and the Falcon had the distinct impression of a blade coming straight for his neck.

The Raven gasped in astonishment as Griever suddenly arced up, intercepting Requiem mere centimeters from its target. And the block wasn't the wild movement of a desperate, blinded man; it was the precisely-calculated motion of someone who knew exactly where a blow was coming from, and exactly how to stop it. "Impossible-!"

The Falcon surged to his feet, using the unexpected motion to send Requiem flying through the air, to land point-down in the ground. Without missing a beat, he then drove Griever forward, straight into the Raven's chest.

Victor Tempest gasped again, but this time from pain... and relief. "Thank you... Falcon," he whispered. "But... how...?"

"I felt the change in air currents," Ken told him. "When you cut out my eyes, my other senses became sharp as knives, and I could tell where your blade was coming from by the way the air itself moved." He began to withdraw his blade, but Tempest grabbed his arm.

"Wait," the one-eyed pilot said weakly. "Not... yet... There are... still things I need to say." He gasped for breath. "Falcon... you have to stop... Le Creuset. He is... the same... as I... Our fates are the same... but where I just wanted it to end, he feels... that the universe itself... must be punished. When he dies... he wants to... bring all of humanity down with him..."

"I don't understand."

Tempest took another deep breath, fighting for a few more moments of life. "Falcon, I was... created by... Metzinger. When he... lost control... of you, he... created me... as your replacement. He... he was involved... when your real father, Al Da Flaga... decided to... try and cheat death, by... cloning himself. He employed... Metzinger... and his colleague, Ulen Hibiki... Later, Metzinger... used those techniques... to make me... But the... process is... flawed. Our genes are... vintage... and we can only live so long... before our cells... die. Cellular mitosis is... accelerated for us..."

Ken had only the vaguest idea of what his pupil was talking about, but he could piece together enough to know Le Creuset was up to something even worse than he'd imagined; and doubtless the disc would explain the rest. "All right, Victor," he said quietly. "Rest now, old comrade. Your death won't be in vain."

Tempest nodded weakly. "I know, Falcon... Just... end it now, please... so that they can never bring me back again..."

The Grimaldi Falcon nodded one last time, withdrew his blade... and slashed at Victor Tempest's neck.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

It had now been a full hour since the _Dominion_ and her attending fleet had withdrawn to the outer edge of the battle zone, and now Murrue was beginning to get very worried. 

Contact with Kira had been lost within moments of his entry into the far side of Mendel, and there had been no word since. The repairs to the ships and mobile suits were well underway, and the _Eternal_ would be able to join the next phase of the battle... but still there was no word from the three mobile suits within Mendel itself.

Sophia's revelations hadn't helped, either, and it now appeared that the Kestrel was even more nervous than Murrue herself. "This isn't good," the pilot muttered. "We should've heard something by now; I can't conceive of any threat that couldn't be defeated by the Freedom and Preybird in tandem."

Murrue glanced at her. "You... think it has something to do with this 'GARM' you mentioned?"

Sophia nodded unhappily. "I think it might, Murrue. That could explain why they're late; the secrets of that place could easily distract even Kira this long, if he became aware of them; and if my suspicions about Metzinger are right, Falcon might've gotten a little busy, too."

Natarle shook her head. "I find that unlikely, Commander; Falcon doesn't seem to let _anything_ interfere with his mission, even something like that." She hesitated. "Unless..."

Murrue completed her thought. "Victor Tempest. And, of course, Rau Le Creuset. They're the only people who could distract Ken this long, and the two of them together could prove a handful even for Kira, Ken, and Mu."

As she spoke, an armrest screen lit up. _"Asagi's coming back, Captain,"_ Kisaka reported; the Astray pilot had been sent on a recon mission to see what lay beyond Mendel, on the opposite side. _"I'm patching her through."_

_"It's me,"_ Asagi Caldwell said a moment later. _"There are four ZAFT ships on the other side of the colony; four_Nazcas,_ and a _Laurasia._ IFF says they're _Vesalius, Hoisengert, Helderton, Nacht Jaeger_, and_ Ziegler_. Currently, they're station-keeping just out of sight, but there's ionization trails indicating they deployed at least two mobile suits to the Mendel interior."_ She paused. _"Captain... one exhaust trail seems very similar to that of the Freedom."_

Murrue nodded slowly. "Thank you, Asagi." Looking back at Sophia, she raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose that explains why they're late," she said slowly, "or at least part of it. If they've got some kind of variant of the Freedom out there -and if, as I suspect, it's piloted by Tempest- things may've gotten very busy in there."

An armrest screen lit up again, this time with a view of the hangar. _"Captain,"_ Athrun said urgently, _"I request permission to launch, and search the colony myself."_

She shook her head. "No, Athrun," she said unwillingly, "I can't allow that. We've already sent three machines into there, and haven't heard from them since; we can't risk sending another when we don't know when the_Dominion_ might resume her attack. The presence of ZAFT forces just adds to that."

_"But..."_

"Athrun," Murrue said gently, "I don't like it any better than you do. But... we can't risk it. Like Ken says, our mission _has_ to succeed, no matter what it costs us. We have to press on, even if..." She swallowed. "Even if Kira, Mu, and Ken never come out of there."

Silence filled the Bridge.

* * *

Mendel Colony, Genetic Advanced Reproductive Medical Research and Development Facility

* * *

Mu cautiously entered the old facility, glancing warily about as he limped through. There was something about this place that seemed to ooze evil, as though the events that had gone on here had someone tainted the very walls with the feelings of the people involved... like there were ghosts here, just waiting to leap out at him. 

_In other words, it's downright spooky..._

The occasional laughter from Rau Le Creuset wasn't helping any. "Oh, what a delightful irony this is," the masked man said, his voice echoing through the long-abandoned central chamber. "That story that began here may yet end here... Yes, I think it's appropriate. But who would've dreamed that we'd meet again in _this_ place?"

"What does it matter what this place is?" Mu shot back, firing his pistol toward where he thought the voice came from. "Why should I care?"

"Oh? You mean you don't _know?"_ Rau laughed, a sound of genuine amusement, not mocking. "Oh, what a shame... what a _crime_ it is for you not to know. After all, everything goes back to here, in the end; everything that ever happened between us, all our battles... the origin is right here, Mu, in this building."

Near the entrance, Kira heard every word, and wondered what was going on. _What is he talking about? Well... I guess it doesn't matter right now..._

Raising his own sidearm cautiously, Kira lightly ran into the central chamber, ascending a staircase to the next level of the spiraling room. "Mu!" he called. "Are you all right?"

Mu's head jerked. "No, Kira!" he shouted back. "Get out of here!"

At that name, Le Creuset felt as though he'd been struck by lightning. "Kira... _Yamato?"_ he whispered. "He's still alive...? I see..." Raising his voice, he called, "So it's you, is it? How delightful it is that you could join us, Kira Yamato! The universe does indeed have some symmetry to it; no mere coincidence could've brought you here this day, when the two of us are already here."

Running toward Mu, Kira glared upward. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "What symmetry?"

"Don't listen to him," Mu advised him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into an alcove. "He's just raving like a madman..." He glared at the young pilot. "Just what do you think you're doing here, anyway?"

Kira didn't flinch under the regard. "Did you think I'd just wait outside for you? Besides, _I_ don't want to be the guy who tells Ken his brother got himself killed going after the guy _he_ wants to kill."

The Hawk reluctantly chuckled. "I see your point. But..." He glanced at the brown-haired pilot's gun. "If you intend to use that thing, I suggest you switch the safety off first."

Kira winced. "Oh... right..." _Even Ken would've remembered to do that, and he _hates_ guns..._

"So," Le Creuset went on, from somewhere above, "we've all come back to this place, have we? The place where everything began? Well, at least now I know one thing; how the Freedom's pilot could be so good. A shame I didn't realize earlier; not now that I have... Come with me, why don't you? See the truth for yourselves!"

There was the sound of running footsteps, and a door opening. "We'd better follow him," Mu muttered to Kira. "But whatever he says, don't believe a word of it; he's starting to babble just like Huckebein." As the pair started cautiously following Le Creuset, the Hawk tilted his head. "By the way... do you have any idea what happened to Falcon? I figured he'd be here by now, after dealing with Tempest."

Kira shook his head. "I don't know. Last I saw, they were trying to hack each other to pieces. Ken tells me a serious sword fight rarely lasts even as long as ten seconds, but... I don't know. Maybe he's hurt."

"I hope not; explaining that to Murrue might not be the safest thing to do..."

They ducked into the next room, and found themselves looking at row after row of what appeared to be incubator tubes, each with a human embryo inside.

A long-dead human embryo...

"Okay," Mu muttered, "this is really getting spooky. This place is officially macabre..." Crouching low, he shook his head. "Maybe it's a good thing Falcon isn't here after all; who knows what _he'd_ think of this place."

"Now you begin to see glimmerings of the truth," Le Creuset announced, as though revealing one of the secrets of the universe. "Of the horrifying experiments that were performed here; of the lengths to which man's insanity will take him."

Kira shuddered. "I... I don't like this place... Mu, I don't think we should be here..."

"You'll get no argument from me, believe me."

Le Creuset, unfortunately, wasn't finished. "Tell me, Kira, does this room of horror bring back any memories? You_should_ know this place, after all."

"Know this place?" Kira repeated. "But... how...?"

From somewhere behind them came the sound of metal on metal, and a section of wall falling in. Mu smiled tightly at the sound. "Sounds like Falcon's finding innovative ways to make an entrance. At least we've got backup coming." He ducked as a pair of bullets went over his head, then returned fire.

"I hope you're carrying extra ammunition, Mu," Le Creuset called. "Otherwise, we might both run out; and then where would we be? Or do you intend to finish this now?"

Mu hissed in wordless anger, and rushed toward the open door through which the masked commander had evidently vanished.

"Wait, Mu!" Kira warned him, and followed, keeping his head down. "Don't-!"

The Hawk ducked through into the dark room, and vaulted a couch. _Let's finish this!_ Popping up, he fired three quick shots... and grunted in pain as return fire slammed into his right shoulder, forcing him to drop his gun. "Ugh!"

"Mu!" Heedless of the danger, Kira ran through the door, leaping over the couch just beneath another round of gunshots. "Mu, are you all right?"

"Just a flesh wound," Mu said through gritted teeth. "You shouldn't have followed me, you know..."

"I'm not gonna let you die here." Kira raised his head and one arm, firing his own pistol toward the white silhouette visible in the farthest shadows of the room.

Le Creuset fired back, but only once; after that came a clicking noise. In the darkness, he'd managed to run out of ammo, and the next sound was of an empty magazine hitting the floor, followed by that of a new magazine being rammed home, and the pistol's slide moving forward, chambering a new round.

"I'm impressed, Kira Yamato," he remarked, though the pilot had once again dropped behind cover. "So your courage extends even beyond the cockpit; you're not afraid to face a man with a gun in his hand. Of course, after Andrew Waltfeld's reports of Banadiya, I expected no less."

"I had a good teacher," Kira said tightly. "And I couldn't live with myself if I just gave up and ran."

"Very good, Kira, very good." Le Creuset lowered his weapon. "But it doesn't matter, because I have no intention of killing you yet. I would hate for you to die before you learned the truth of this place." He tossed something, and a photo album skittered across the floor toward them. "You see now, what this place dealt with?"

Mu took one look at one of the pictures, and gasped... for one of the figures in it was himself, much younger; and the other... "My... my dad...?"

"Perhaps you'd care to stick around for awhile," Le Creuset suggested. "Learn the truth." He tossed another picture. "Because after all, you're both deeply connected to what happened here... right, Kira?"

It was Kira's turn to gasp, for if he did not recognize the woman holding one of the children in it, he _did_ recognize the other woman... and both children.

Himself... and Cagalli...

* * *

Author's note: The battle for Mendel has entered a lull; but within the colony, other events are happening. Ken DiFalco has, at last, defeated his rogue student, yet been maimed in the process... and revelations of the past are coming to light... 

Yes, I know this chapter is late; but don't blame _me_ this time. The computer I use for the Internet crashed last week, and while we replaced it immediately, it didn't have a built-in floppy disc drive. Since my writing is done on a separate computer -partially to protect it from viruses- I've been unable to update till now. Fear not, the next chapter shouldn't take too long.

I expect the reviews for this chapter should be... interesting, under the circumstances. Well, till they start coming in... -Solid Shark


	39. Chapter 39: Mendel's Secrets

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

* * *

Mendel Colony, GARM Facility, July 10th, C.E. 71

* * *

_"Perhaps you'd care to stick around for awhile... learn the truth. Because after all, you're both deeply connected to what happened here... right, Kira?"_

Mu La Flaga stared at the photograph of himself and his father, and Kira Yamato stared at the picture of himself, an unidentified woman, Cagalli... and a woman he knew from pictures he'd seen in Orb to be Cagalli's mother. _What... what _is_ this...?_

In the shadows, slowly lowering his pistol, Rau Le Creuset smiled. "So now you begin to understand," he said, sounding amused. "You don't know the significance of those pictures, do you? But their very presence in this place validates what I've said so far. Your origin can be traced right back here, Kira Yamato, to the Mendel colony... to your father's twisted dream."

He turned his head suddenly, not waiting for any sort of reply, when he heard the sound of metal on metal... and the tip of a mirror-polished sword burst through the wall to his right. The katana's point came all the way through, and the impossibly-keen blade cut a man-sized doorway in the wall, the metal falling inward.

"I suggest you explain what you're babbling about, Rau," Ken DiFalco rasped. "Or else... I'll..."

Le Creuset started to raise his weapon again, then hesitated, seeing that, though the ace's face was turned directly toward him, there was a torn strip of cloth around his eyes... and blood stained it. Blood that was clearly from a deep wound...

"So that's it, is it," Rau murmured, almost to himself. "You can navigate... but you couldn't deflect bullets..." He smiled again. "Fine then, Falcon. Stick around, and hear the tale of this miserable place. After all... you don't have anything better to do."

Mu risked a glance over the couch behind which he and Kira hid, and he gasped. "Falcon!"

"I'll be fine, Mu," Ken told him, voice hoarse but clear. "Just because... I can't see... doesn't mean I'm helpless." His head turned, as though looking the room over. Then, in a sudden burst of motion, he darted forward, somersaulting over the couch, coming to a hard landing next to Mu and Kira. _No way I'll let him shoot me... not until I know what's going on..._

Le Creuset smiled slightly, but otherwise didn't even seem to acknowledge that Ken's entrance had even happened. He had better things to do... like breaking down Freedom's pilot.

"This place is a forbidden temple," he said now, a mix of amusement and scorn in his voice. "A monument to the twisted dreams of men... men who learned their craft for the purpose of advancing humanity, but eventually forgot that, and followed only their own ambition." He lifted an eyebrow behind his mask. "Did you ever suspect, Kira, that those who raised you were not your _real_ parents?"

Kira jerked. _Wha...?_

"No," the masked man mused, answering his own question, "no, of course you didn't. If you had realized it, you wouldn't have turned out this way... You wouldn't have turned out so normal if you'd known what had been done to you, Kira."

"What are you talking about?" the young Coordinator demanded. "What are you saying? Answer me!"

"Your _real_ father was Doctor Ulen Hibiki," Le Creuset told him, with evident relish. "And because of that, I never had any idea that you were _that_ child, even when Athrun first brought up your name. It never occurred to me that _you_ might be still alive; not when you were such a priority target of Blue Cosmos. You, your father, Doctor Metzinger... and, had those idiot Naturals but known it, the daughter of Orb's Chief Representative. I never dreamed that you could still be alive... but what a delightful irony it is, that we should meet _here,_ of all places!"

"Shut up, Le Creuset!" Mu croaked. "You think your pathetic lies will-!"

"What lies, Mu?" Rau retorted. "I'm telling nothing but the truth. Surely you begin to understand now, Kira? That Blue Cosmos targeted you... because you are the Ultimate Coordinator?"

Kira had gone very still, barely breathing... and then the other shoe fell.

"And for the purpose of your genesis, dozens of your siblings were sacrificed," Le Creuset concluded. "All those human embryos you saw... they were, in effect, your brothers and sisters; all of them sacrificed to perfect the artificial womb, within which every aspect of your development could be controlled. Remove the mother's body from the equation, and nothing could stop them from developing a new breed of humanity... the ultimate expression of what George Glenn brought about." He laughed; and now there was a distinct tinge of madness to the laughter. "Dozens dead, to create you... you were guilty of murder before you were even born, Kira!"

Kira froze, his heart nearly freezing. _No... I... I... it can't... be..._

Ken felt Mu's eyes on him, and nodded slightly. Before Le Creuset could react, the Hawk grabbed Kira's shoulder, lurched to his feet, and started hauling the younger pilot toward a nearby staircase, while Ken came to his feet in a fluid motion, twitched his wrist, and let fly with the switchblade that appeared in his hand. Using his other senses -hearing, touch, and his own innate spatial awareness- he managed to bring it within centimeters of Le Creuset's heart, forcing the masked man to dodge to one side in a rather hurried fashion.

By the time he could bring his gun to bear, all three of his opponents had successfully made it to the stairway, and momentary safety.

Down below, Mu pulled Kira behind a desk that looked to have been used for unsavory purposes sometime in the past. "Keep your head on straight, you idiot!" he hissed. "You're not taking any of his babble seriously, are you?"

Sitting heavily against another desk, Ken sighed painfully. "The thing is, Mu," he said wearily, "I'm not too sure it's all babble."

Mu shot him a glance. "What do you mean? And while we're at it, how are you getting around with your eyes cut out?"

"To answer your first question, Rau's little soliloquy there would explain the... peculiar behavior my people have been exhibiting of late." The ace was frowning, recalling now the attitudes of his Demons on learning of their destination. "Leanne, Sparky, and Tom have all been acting strange ever since the idea of moving operations to Mendel came up; I think they knew something... something they didn't want to tell me." He clenched a fist. "And Rau's reference to Metzinger makes me think _Sophia_ knew about it, too." He listened intently for a moment, checking for footsteps, before continuing. "As for how I can navigate... it's hard to explain. After Victor got my eyes -he's dead now, by the way- my other senses became sharp as knives. I can determine the location of fixed objects the same way I keep track of my DRAGOON system in space, and my nerves have become sensitive enough that I can feel the change in air currents when an object passes through. As Rau said, I can't deflect bullets -I need to see the shooter's muscles to pull that off- but I can find my way around... and I can fight." He turned his head toward his protege, in a most unsettling effect. "C'mon, Kira," he said quietly. "Snap out of it... if you don't want to die."

At that moment, footsteps began approaching at last. "I did not come into this world through natural birth," Le Creuset quoted, moving down the stairs at a slow, steady pace. "My genes were altered early in the embryonic stage of my development..."

Mu groaned to himself. _Oh, great; now we get to hear him rant about George Glenn, huh?_

"George Glenn was the first Coordinator whom humanity knew," Le Creuset said, confirming the Hawk's fears. "The transmission he made as he departed for Jupiter on the _Tsiolkovsky_ is one of the most famous statements ever made in space; and unlike Armstrong's words centuries ago, they did not lead humanity into a bright future. Rather, they threw this world into chaos... a darkness from which it has never emerged. I wonder," he mused, "if Glenn had any idea of the madness he was about to unleash? If not, it was a fortunate coincidence indeed that kept him from Earth for fourteen years; had he still been there, in those turbulent times, he would probably have been assassinated."

"It didn't save him in the end," Ken shot back, just to keep the masked man from thinking he was in complete control of the conversation. "All it took was one crazed Natural, angry that he wasn't born a Coordinator... and who didn't understand that Glenn wasn't just referring to those with engineered genes when he spoke of Coordinators."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "Trying to make my point for me, Falcon? Hm; perhaps GENESIS wasn't a fluke; perhaps you truly do begin to understand..."

At the mention of that hated acronym, the ace's lips drew back in a snarl. "Get to the point, you bastard," he hissed. "Or we'll see how handicapped I really am."

"Hmph; not quite the Falcon I knew. You're letting your anger get in the way..." Le Creuset smiled. "But you have little to do with this discussion, old comrade; your friends here have _far_ more to do with what I'm talking about." He started flipping wall switches, bringing up the lights in the old laboratory. "After Glenn's ill-considered revelation, human evolution turned from its proper course; scientist argued with scientist, some arguing against using Glenn's techniques... and others racing to produce ever better breeds of humanity. They sought after a dream... and no one wants to see their dream vanish. Was that why they did it?" he mused. "Did they strive so hard for their dream that they forgot _why_ they were tinkering with Nature itself? Perhaps that is what brought them to the path of trying to play God."

Kira remained frozen in place, too stunned by the revelations to so much as twitch. _Was I... created... because of... things like... this? Am _I..._ just a symbol... of this chaos? And does that make _me..._ an abomination?_

Le Creuset chuckled; the quiet laughter of a whom from whom sanity fled long ago. "You see it now, don't you? Those twisted men proclaimed their reverence for human life... yet even as they said those words, they began toying with humanity, and then they began to destroy it!"

"Shut up!" Mu shouted, lunging from hiding, his pistol firing two quick shots. "What gives you the right to sound so superior?"

Rau opened fire on him, narrowly missing the Hawk. "I am the only one who's earned that right!" he proclaimed. "Among all of humanity, I along have the right to judge their actions!" And then, disturbingly, he paused, and began to laugh again. "But no, that isn't right, is it? There is one other man who took that role upon himself... and in so doing proved that he alone shared my insight into mankind's self-destructive nature. One man who has worked for the same goal as I... one man who has been the architect of what we all instinctively desire!" His laugh turned wild, almost like the ravings of a madman... or perhaps not "almost", at that. "Well, Falcon? How does it feel, being the architect of mankind's end? How does it feel to know that _you_ have done more than I could have ever dreamed of, in the pursuit of this goal?"

Those words were like a stake in Ken DiFalco's heart, and something within him snapped. _"Shut up!"_ he screamed, Griever flashing from its sheath in a flicker of brilliant, mirror-polished metal. Spinning to his feet, he leapt over the table he had used as cover. _"Shut up! If you ever try to use GENESIS, I'll-!"_

The first bullet took him in the spleen; the second impacted in one of his kidneys.

The third struck his breastbone, striking the metal plate over his heart and lung and catapulting him backwards, to land in a heap against the far wall.

"Falcon!" Mu called, watching in horror as his brother sagged down the wall, leaving a smear of blood as he passed. _"Falcon!"_

"He's not dead yet, Mu," Le Creuset assured him. "I haven't told him everything he needs to know quite yet. He'll last a little longer... long enough for me to reveal the final truth to you all." He grinned insanely, anticipating the next few moments with crazed glee. "I know all about humanity's follies, and I have the right to judge... because I am he, that arrogant fool, who thought he could circumvent death itself with his money. Al Da Flaga, your father... but I am merely that man's defective clone!"

Mu jerked in shock. _What? That can't-!_

Behind him, leaking blood from his many and varied wounds, Ken nodded mentally in understanding. _The same... as I... Now I understand, Victor... just as I understand what _I've_ done..._ He felt an anguish far, far worse than his physical pain at the thought of what he'd done.

"My dad's clone? You expect me to believe that fairy tale?" Mu demanded, rallying. "That's nonsense!"

"I don't want to believe it either!" Le Creuset retorted. "But unfortunately, it happens to be true!"

* * *

_Vesalius,_ Bridge

* * *

Fredrik Ades absently tapped his fingers on his armrest, frowning in thought. _Something's wrong,_ he thought uneasily. _The Commander's late; that's not like him at all... Did something happen in there?_

As though to support his worry, Kyle Kreitzman's face appeared on the main screen. _"Something's wrong here, Captain Ades,"_ he said flatly. _"Both our commanders are overdue; and I can't think of any scenario that would delay both of them that could remotely be considered good."_ His face was drawn; not surprisingly, considering that his own commander very likely had his own agenda when he launched. _"I don't think they're dead, but if either one took heavy damage to their machines, they may be temporarily stranded in there."_

Ades nodded. "Agreed. I'll send a couple of GINNs in to check on them; Commander Le Creuset might not approve, if it turns out nothing's wrong... but I'd rather be reprimanded for unnecessary caution than for not retrieving the Commander when he needed help."

Kreitzman nodded ruefully. _"Yeah, I can see that."_ He frowned. _"I'll be honest with you, Ades; I'm worried. Commander Le Creuset is probably fine... but if Commander Huckebein ran into the Grimaldi Falcon in there, he... may be dead. There was something... not quite right about him."_

"I know." Ades refrained from mentioning that he felt very few in ZAFT would shed any tears for the unstable Huckebein, but knew the other captain knew it anyway. "In any case, that's beyond our control, Captain; all we can do is try and contain the fallout."

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Muruta Azrael tapped his fingers on his armrest; but in his case it was impatience, rather than unease, that prompted the action. "How much longer, Admiral?" 

"Preparations are almost complete, Director," Admiral Hamilton assured him. "The machines which were damaged during the last engagement are fully repaired... though that's only by virtue of the fact that they tended to either take very light damage, or explode. Temporary repairs are in place on the surviving ships -sufficient to last out this battle- and our forces are regrouping now." He glanced at one of his armrest screens. "Charles? What's your assessment?"

_"Everything's set here, Jim,"_ Rear Admiral Kreitzman replied. _"And, I might add, my crew is getting impatient to get some of their own back against those bastards."_

Azrael smiled thinly. "Don't worry, Admiral Kreitzman; we're _all_ going to exact our revenge on DiFalco and his rabble. In fact... this time, _Dominion_ herself is going to join in the battle directly. I want a piece of this so-called 'True ZAFT' faction... especially after what they did to us in Orb."

Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Director? Risking the command ship _is_ quite a gamble."

"It's also the only way we'll have much of a chance against the _Archangel_ herself," the Director retorted."I've been watching this battle, Admiral, and I've come to the conclusion that the only ship that can truly stand up against an _Archangel_ is another _Archangel..._ which holds doubly true when there are _two_ of the things out there." He shook his head. "So, if the Fleet's regrouped, and the repairs are finished, what's the holdup?"

The admiral grimaced in distaste. "That would be _your_ people, Director. As usual, those three 'biological CPUs' are sticking a wrench in the works."

Azrael shrugged. "The price we pay for Natural pilots with Coordinator-level abilities. Don't worry, Admiral, they'll be ready in time. For now... I suggest you send the order to move out."

"Understood, Director. Charles?"

_"I heard, Jim."_ Kreitzman glanced at someone offscreen. _"Second Fleet, resume combat operations. We're moving out."_

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"The Second Fleet is moving again, Captain," Sai reported tensely. "ETA to weapons range: five minutes." 

"All hands to Level One Battlestations," Natarle ordered. "All mobile suit pilots to their machines; prepare to engage the enemy."

Murrue nodded her approval. "Carry it out; and have the other ships launch, as well." She frowned in thought. "Recall _Asmodeus_ and _Arkbird,"_ she decided. "We may need the firepower this time; especially if _Dominion_ attacks us directly."

"Sending signal now, Captain," Flay answered. "No word yet from the other harbor; the status of Freedom, Strike, and Preybird is still unknown," she added, anticipating the next question.

The Captain smiled sheepishly. "Was it that obvious?"

"Murrue," Natarle informed her, with a trace of amusement, "you've been asking about that every five minutes and twenty seconds. With that kind of precision, it wasn't hard to anticipate it." She sighed. "Of course, we'd all like to know the same thing..."

Murrue nodded tensely; though she noted inwardly her exec had come a long way from the stickler for rules and regulations she'd been at Heliopolis. "I know," she said quietly. "I hope they're all right... but right now, we need to concentrate on the task at hand." She tapped her intercom panel. "Sophia, Athrun, I'm afraid you two are going to have to lead this one; there's still no sign of the others, and we no longer have the time to wait for them. Can you handle it?"

_"I think so, Murrue,"_ Sophia replied; her face was as blank as Ken's often was, but it was the look of a woman about to go into combat, not a withdrawn tactician. _"We'll give 'em a good fight, that's for sure."_

_"We'll make do,"_ Athrun said, more confidently. _"We may not have the edge in numbers, but the Earth Forces have only three machines that matter. If we can knock out enough Strike Daggers, and enough escort ships, we should be able to force a complete withdrawal this time."_

_"No 'should be' about it,"_ Sparky cut in, from the _Arkbird. "Azrael's not terribly bright where military matters are concerned, but he trusts the judgment of his private dogs of war... and _they_ know that there comes a time when even victory is hollow, if the cost is too high. I don't say that we can win, but we don't have to; we just need to let_them_ know that winning this battle isn't worth it."_

"They'll be back," Murrue warned him. "I don't need Ken's insight to know that they won't stop hunting us."

_"That's true,"_ Waltfeld interjected. _"But with Second Fleet taking heavy losses, it'll be weeks before they can send another force of significant size after us, and by then we'll have relocated to the Beta Site... and we'll have begun our privateer raids."_ He paused. _"Excuse me; _guerrilla_ raids,"_ he corrected, remembering Ken's distaste for the term privateer. _"Anyway, they'll also be distracted by the PLANTs themselves; there's going to be a lot of reorganizing on both sides, once the implications of renewed nuclear warfare sink in."_

"We can debate the long-range consequences later," Natarle said sharply. "The Fleet is three minutes to effective firing range."

Murrue nodded. "Right. Arnold, get us moving." She paused, then smiled slowly as she thought of what Ken would probably say in this situation. "Engage the enemy."

* * *

Mendel Colony, GARM Facility

* * *

Cautiously peeking out from behind cover, Mu glared at Le Creuset. "I remember you now," he said harshly, practically gnashing his teeth in anger. "We met when I was about five years old... I remember my father saying something about not raising you to be a 'weakling' like I was..." 

Le Creuset smiled. "Ah, so you _do_ remember that; I'm glad, Mu. Now you know it all! Now you understand how this came about; now you understand that the final door is about to open!" He laughed crazily. "And _we,_ Grimaldi Falcon, are the ones opening it!"

Ken, battered and bleeding as he was, seemed to take no notice of the words; but Kira heard something slide softly across the floor toward him, and nodded slightly in understanding as he picked up the machine pistol. The commonplace sounds had succeeded in breaking through his shock... and now he could _do_ something about it.

Then, and only then, did Ken say anything; mostly to cover the soft sound. "Now I understand you, Rau," he rasped. "I should've known your name was of your own choosing; 'The Crucible' always did seem... so fitting..."

A pistol shot cracked, and a beaker of something evil-smelling exploded into vapor. "Isn't it just? After all, this world is full of nothing but hatred; so why doesn't the human race just exterminate itself?" Laughing, Le Creuset fired randomly, destroying bits of lab equipment and a few lights, all the while continuing his insane ranting. "No matter; now I will bring it all to an end!"

"No!" Kira shouted in denial, springing from hiding. "I won't let you!" He raised the borrowed pistol, and opened fire on the raving lunatic.

Le Creuset, though startled by the unexpected attack, managed to throw himself to one side, while returning fire from his own sidearm. He managed to graze Kira's right shoulder, ripping open his flightsuit and tossing him into the wall in sheer reflex... but Kira's own burst of fire tore through Le Creuset's hair... and the strap of his mask.

The silver mask went flying, even as Rau cried out in shock and... horror?

But his reaction was nothing compared to Mu's, upon seeing that face. _It _is_ him!_ Mu thought in shock.

_So that's what my father looked like,_ Ken thought muzzily. _Too bad I can't see it... but I'm sure I know the pertinent details. That... is the face of insanity... the face of the end of the world..._

Rau Le Creuset's bright blue eyes, much like Mu's -and a face with a clear family resemblance to Ken's- glared at them. "There's nothing you can do to change this!" he shouted at them, what little control he had left slipping away. "The hatred of an entire race is engulfing the universe!"

With that, he took off running, almost as though he was terrified by the very thought of his face being seen any longer.

That left just three shell-shocked pilots in the room, all of them injured... one of them critically. Of them all, Kira had come off the lightest, with just a graze to his arm and a punch-drunk mind; whereas Mu had been hit with a chunk of debris in his own cockpit and shot in the arm. And Ken...

After helping Mu to his feet, Kira made his way over to the ace's battered body. "Ken?" he said softly. "Can you walk?"

Ken managed a weak chuckle. "Walk? ...Maybe. I'll need some help getting to Preybird, though; I'm blind, my spleen seems to be a writeoff, I've got kidney damage, and I'm pretty sure my prosthetics aren't working right." He coughed up blood, as though trying to prove his point.

"We'll carry you," Mu assured him. "C'mon, Kira; you take his left arm, I've got his right... But what do we do about mobile suits? We've got three machines, and only two pilots who can fly at all..."

"We leave the Strike behind, for now," Kira advised. "We can pick it up after the fighting. I'll get back to the Freedom, while you take Ken in the Preybird."

"He's right," Ken rasped. "You flew it before, Mu; you can do it again. In fact..." He coughed again. "When we get back to the _Archangel,_ I want you to take her out again."

"I've never flown that thing in combat-" Mu protested.

"Doesn't matter," the ace said firmly; at least, as firmly as could with the internal injuries he'd described. "Leanne managed it, and for all that she's a Coordinator, she's not quite as good a pilot as you are."

"Right..." The Hawk nodded. "Okay, then; but I'll have to get myself patched up first, too. I think I can fly like this, but not if I bleed out in the middle of it." He stooped, helping the younger Coordinator haul Ken to his feet.

"Let's get out of here, Mu," Kira said tiredly. "...We should never have come here in the first place."

Neither argued with that.

* * *

Mendel Colony, Secondary Harbor

* * *

Rau Le Creuset ran at an undignified pace for his fallen GuAIZ, knowing that if Ades had sent any kind of backup, they'd look there first. And he _needed_ to be within his machine by then; the thought of someone seeing him as he was... 

_Never!_ he thought furiously, struggling to keep the pain, the _pain_ at bay. _Bad enough that _they_ saw my face; the face of a man I hate... Urgh, the medicine..._

Le Creuset climbed hurriedly into his brutalized machine, reached under the seat, and withdrew a jar of pills. He'd not carried a spare mask with him, but at least he could alleviate the pain... since, after all, he had not yet accomplished what he'd set out to do.

Within moments, the drugs began to take effect, and he slumped back into the seat. _Good... good..._ Now that he could think again, he could muse on what he had learned during this visit to Mendel. He had, of course, seen the fallen, headless body of Victor Tempest; that he was a corpse was not something Le Creuset mourned, nor did it surprise him. If Falcon had turned up merely blinded, that meant his former student had to be dead. _And now I begin to understand..._

It was only after looking at Huckebein's face that he realized exactly _what_ the Raven had been; though the hair was black, not blonde, the features were clearly Le Creuset's own, at a younger age, which meant he, too, was a clone of Al Da Flaga... and comparing his face to Falcon's had unlocked the final mystery, the one that had set Le Creuset searching for the ace's true parentage.

"So it's true," the cloned madman murmured to himself. "He can sense me... because he, too, is a child of that man's genes. But... is he a clone, or a genetic child? Did Metzinger create Falcon from cloned cells, or preserved samples?" He smiled to himself. "Well, no matter; it's another weapon I can use to torment him, when we face each other in battle again. That is... if the knowledge that Zala isn't the only one who wants to use GENESIS doesn't destroy him all by itself."

In a way, he hoped the young warrior's fragile psyche would survive the blow. He had thought once that his ultimate battle in this war would be with Kira Yamato, who would doubtless continue to throw himself into battle after battle in the name of "peace". But now...

"How fitting... I do hope Falcon survives the coming battles; he surpasses Mu in skill, with only Kira Yamato possessing greater ability... and Kira doesn't have the will to fight the battle to its inevitable conclusion." Le Creuset smiled. "Oh, Falcon... may we live to face each other one last time... son."

He was still smiling when the GINNs arrived.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Second Fleet entering weapons range," Sai reported tensely. "Mobile suits launching from surviving ships;_Dominion_ coming in... Captain, detecting energy buildup in _Dominion_'s positron banks!" 

"Confirmed," Tonomura added. "Positron discharge in five seconds."

"Right roll twenty," Murrue barked out, "starboard fifteen degrees!"

Neumann didn't waste time acknowledging the order; he simply wrenched his controls, sweeping the _Archangel_down and away from matter-annihilating blast. Instead of turning the _Archangel_ into pure energy, the dual antimatter stream from _Dominion_ passed overhead... and grazed _Asmodeus'_ flank.

Natarle whipped her head around. "What's the _Asmodeus'_ status?" she demanded. "How badly was she hit?"

_"We're fine here, Natarle,"_ Tom Delaney reported, though the trace of smoke behind him clearly disputed his claim. _"We lost the starboard Valiant, the outboard missile launchers on that side, but no casualties. Our engine power's dropped slightly, but we're still in the game."_

"Sorry about that," Murrue apologized. "I reacted too quickly-"

_"You did exactly what you should've,"_ he interrupted. _"We took minor damage;_ you_ would've been completely destroyed. Don't worry about it."_ The gray-haired captain glanced back at his own fire-control officer. _"George, let 'em known we're not happy, will you?"_

_"Yes, Sir!"_

Tom wasn't kidding when he said he was unhappy; and from what Murrue saw, his fire-control officer was quick and intelligent. Mere moments after the command was issued, both of _Asmodeus'_ Lohengrin, the Gottfrieds, and the surviving Valiant went off, along with a salvo of missiles... all of it aimed at the _Dominion._

It was clear, however, that _Dominion_'s helmsman was just as fast as _Asmodeus'_ weapons officer. The ship rolled one-eighty degrees and dove relative to the Second Fleet, avoiding the attack entirely... though the pair of _Drake_-class escort ships behind it weren't so lucky. The emerald beams from the Gottfrieds struck first, smashing their superstructures off with massive force, before the positron streams torched them into pure energy.

And, to top it all off, the missiles sought ought their own targets, several impacting on mobile suits, others smashing lightly-armored escort ships.

"They can't keep losing ships this way," Murrue murmured thoughtfully.

"True, Captain," Natarle agreed grimly, "but we can't keep taking hits like _Asmodeus_ just did, either." Then she voiced the thought they'd all been thinking. "Where _is_ the Commander, anyway?"

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

"Hm," Admiral Hamilton mused. "It seems someone on their side doesn't like us." 

Azrael nodded shakily. "So I see." The sudden, intense retaliatory barrage from the second _Archangel_-class had taken him completely by surprise; and it was the first time he'd come that close to being killed since DiFalco's satellite cannon attack on the Fourth Naval Fleet, during the Battle of Orb."Fortunately, he doesn't seem to be a very good shot."

"Good enough to take out two more of our ships when he missed _us,"_ Hamilton retorted grimly. "More of DiFalco's people, undoubtedly. I see that they've brought their entire force along this time... Wait, we seem to have hit one of them."

Indeed, the other gray-painted ship, similar to the pink vessel that had sat out the previous engagement, seemed to stagger in space, as one of the engine pod-mounted laser cannons ripped itself apart, spewing shrapnel into the engine itself.

"That'll teach the space monsters!" Azrael crowed. "Give whoever fired that shot my congratulations, Admiral; we're finally hitting the bastards!"

The admiral allowed himself a smile. "Well, Director, it looks like we're finally getting a handle on this battle. I don't like to think about the sort of casualties we're going to have in the mobile suit wings by the time this is over -I'm afraid I expect losses among the mass-produced units to be effectively total- but we may yet succeed."

_"Just one question,"_ Kreitzman broke in. _"Where is DiFalco?"_

* * *

Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

_What I want to know,_ Athrun thought to himself, as his beam staff spun through space and burned a Strike Dagger into assorted chunks, _is where Kira, Falcon, and the Commander are..._

That was beginning to be a very pressing question. Not only would their firepower be welcome, but their absence was beginning to take its toll on morale; Cagalli, in particular, was clearly distracted, and though Sophia's blue-and-gold Hyperion was efficiently ripping targets apart with its beam submachine gun, she was obviously preoccupied. Athrun supposed that, in her case, it was because of the strange things he'd been hearing about Mendel the last few hours.

_We need to get it together,_ he thought grimly, just the _Dominion_'s Gottfried's opened up on the _Archangel._ This time, Neumann evidently couldn't react in time, and one of her own Gottfrieds was smashed into oblivion.

_Arkbird_ promptly lashed out with her METEOR units, obliterating a _Nelson,_ but it didn't change the fact that the tide was finally turning... something made abundantly clear when Athrun heard a familiar cackling over the radio.

"Well, well," Orga Sabnak called, moving the Calamity in. "So it's you again... but this time you're all alone. Time for some payback, pal!" He fired a full barrage from back-mounted Schlag cannons, bazooka-like plasma sabot launcher, and shield-mounted ram cannon, with a burst form his chest-mounted Scylla for good measure.

To the biological CPU's surprise, though, something cut through the path of the beams, stopping them in their tracks. "That's where you're wrong, _pal,"_ Dearka snarled, his enormous zweihander taking the hit. "He's _not_ alone!" Drawing the blade back, he rushed for the Calamity.

Athrun smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Dearka."

"Don't mention it... Whoa!" Buster dodged to one side, aided by the new wings and the extra thrusters from the Raptor's salvaged backpack, as a hyper-impulse blast passed through the space he'd just occupied. "Watch it, Athrun!" he warned.

"Heh, heh," Clotho chuckled, bringing his newly-repaired Raider into the fight. "You're terminated, buddy!" Transforming into his mobile suit form, he fired a burst from his arm-mounted machine gun.

Dearka ignored the attack; with the Buster's retrofits, his phase-shift wouldn't be worn down by something like that. Still... "I think we're in trouble, Athrun," he said frankly. "Yzak, where are you? We could use a little help here, you know!"

"Sorry," Yzak grunted, lunging toward an opponent of his own, "but I'm a little busy; the Forbidden's out here, too." He switched frequencies. "Nicol, give us a hand!"

"I'm too far," Nicol said apologetically. "Tom's got me watching for ZAFT..."

"Just great," Duel's pilot groused. "Forget ZAFT; right now we're-"

A full forty streaks of coherent emerald light scorched across space, right through the center of the brewing confrontation.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Hit to aft starboard, Deck Three," Sai called out. "Fires in compartments along that passageway; Chief Murdoch is evacuating the area's atmosphere and closing airtight doors." He listened for a moment. "Three casualties, none fatal." 

_"Arkbird_ is falling behind," Flay reported, listening to chatter from the other ships. "Engines down to twenty percent capacity. _Asmodeus_ attempting to maneuver around to guard against ZAFT attacks, but is having difficulties with fire-control. _Eternal... Eternal_ is undamaged, and moving to assist _Asmodeus._ _Kusanagi_ is also undamaged, and preparing to attack _Dominion..."_

Murrue listened to the litany of reports with growing tension. Second Fleet was losing ships and mobile suits at a tremendous rate, but the Earth Forces clearly saw how much damage the True ZAFT forces were receiving in return._If this keeps up much longer, ZAFT will enter the fight, and then..._

"Signal from Freedom, Captain!" Flay called suddenly. "Preybird also detected!"

The Captain sat bolt upright, just as Kira's voice came over the radio. _"Sorry we're late, _Archangel," he said, sounding oddly subdued. _"We're coming in now."_

"What about the Strike?" Murrue asked worriedly. "Is Mu...?"

Her right armrest screen came to life. _"I'm fine,"_ Mu told her, though the pain evident in his face put the lie to the claim. _"We had to leave Strike behind for now; too badly damaged to be of any use right now. I'm piloting Preybird for now."_ He hesitated. _"Falcon's been wounded."_

She tensed. "How... how is he...?"

_"Bad,"_ he said unflinchingly. _"He ran into Tempest in there; Huckebein's dead, but he got Falcon's eyes before he went. And... we encountered Le Creuset. To make a long and ugly story short, Falcon took three shots to the torso; before he passed out, he said he thought he'd lost his spleen, received kidney injuries, and took damage to his prosthetics. If we don't get him to the Infirmary in the next few minutes, I don't think he's gonna make it."_

Murrue felt her chest tighten. "...I see..." She took a deep breath. "All right, then; get aboard, and hurry. What are you going to do after that?"

_"Falcon told me to get myself patched up, then head back out in Preybird,"_ Mu answered. _"And that's exactly what I'm gonna do."_ There was barely controlled fury in his voice.

_And no wonder... Ken, you _have_ to pull through..._ She knew she couldn't focus on that right now, though. Ken was critical to the success of the mission, but _she_ was needed where she was, if she wanted them to win the battle._This isn't a case of lose the battle, win the war; we lose here, we lose everything..._

"All right," Murrue said at last. "And... take care of him, will you?"

_"I know."_ Racing back toward the ship, Preybird twisted around a beam from a 105 Dagger, then deployed its DRAGOON system toward the melee surrounding Buster, Duel, and Justice, firing its full array of remote lasers before recalling the entire system and slipping neatly -if far faster than most people would consider sane- into the_Archangel_'s starboard flight deck.

_Stay alive, Ken..._ Murrue thought, and turned her attention back to directing the battle.

* * *

_Vesalius,_ Bridge

* * *

Ades glanced up from the main tabletop screen when he heard the Bridge elevator slide open, and he blinked when he saw Le Creuset enter. "Commander! We were wondering where you were, Sir; by the time anyone got to your machine, you'd already-" 

The commander -now wearing another mask- waved a hand. "I had something to take care of, Ades; never mind that. What's the situation out there?"

Ades shrugged. "In terms of the likely outcome, not much different from when you left, Sir. Now that Preybird seems to have reentered the fight, along with the Freedom, DiFalco's forces are rallying; though they've suffered significant damage -the _Arkbird_ appears to be falling behind the others- the Earth Forces have lost over half their fleet. I would say it's only a matter of time, and not much of it, before the Alliance commander decides even a victory would be meaningless, under the circumstances."

Le Creuset nodded thoughtfully. "Agreed; though Falcon's victory will be costlier than you might expect, Ades. Preybird isn't under his control right now."

The captain blinked again. "Sir?"

Rau smiled thinly. "At the moment, Ades, there is a distinct possibility that Falcon is dead. I personally think he's too stubborn to die this easily, but he's had his eyes cut out with a sword, and I shot him three times in Mendel, at close range. He'll be a long time recovering from this one, I assure you."

Unnoticed by the two officers, Kreitzman had been listening from the main screen. _"His eyes were cut out with a sword?"_ he repeated. _"Then, what about..."_

Le Creuset glanced at him. "I'm sorry, Captain," he said (not sounding terribly sorry), "but I'm afraid I must inform you that Commander Huckebein is dead. I saw his body, minus its head."

The young captain closed his eyes. _"I see. In that case... there remains for me but one thing to do."_ His image vanished.

Toward the bow of the Bridge, a sensor operator jerked in surprise. "Captain Ades- The _Nacht Jaeger_ is moving out!"

Ades turned sharply. "_What?_ Get Captain Kreitzman back on-"

"Don't bother, Ades," Le Creuset said quietly. "It wouldn't do any good, I suspect."At his captain's strange look, he shrugged. "Kyle Kreitzman is probably the last man in ZAFT to have any attachment to Huckebein at all; they've been friends nearly as long as Huckebein was with Falcon. Add to that the fact that I think he knows one of the Earth Forces admirals out there..."

Ades sighed. "I see. Well then, Sir, what are the rest of us to do?"

"We'll move in as soon as the Earth Forces begin their retreat." Le Creuset smiled. "I think it won't be long now; if nothing else, Captain Kreitzman and his loyal crew will likely give them something else to think about."

* * *

Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

Orga cursed as the barrage of energy fire nearly scorched him to death. "Coward!" he shouted at the retreating Preybird. "Come back here and fight!" 

Cagalli swooped in on him from behind, firing the IWSP's cannons; though they were useless against phase-shift, they did an adequate job of keeping the crazed pilot busy. "If you want a fight, I've got one right here!" she shouted back. "C'mon, Kira, let's give them something to remember us by!"

"Right..." Kira hesitated as he dove into the fight, then shook himself. _There's no time to think about that right now,_ he told himself fiercely. _You can't think about the past if you're not alive to do it!_

With renewed resolve, he opened fire on the Forbidden, giving the Duel a hand.

Predictably, though Yzak was inwardly grateful for the help, he didn't show it on the outside. "I don't need backup, Freedom," he snarled. "I had this guy under control!" As though to prove it, he drew a beam saber, and lunged for the green machine.

Athrun, tangling with the Raider, shook his head. "Under control," he muttered. "Yeah, right; so under control he blew off one of your wings and your railgun..." He grunted then, as Raider's Mjollnir caught him in the left shoulder. Spun around by the impact, he retaliated with a discharge from his Fortis beam cannons.

It was probably the biggest mobile suit melee of the war to date; Strike Daggers and their advanced cousins, the 105 Daggers, had been blown away by the dozens, leaving almost none of them left, while the X-type machines continued to hammer away at each other.

They'd all taken damage by now; Sophia's Hyperion was missing a light-wave barrier after a Launcher-equipped 105 Dagger got off a grazing hit to her left arm, while the Buster had lost two Death Blossoms and a thruster unit. Cagalli's Strike Rouge was missing an antiship sword, and everyone else was battered to some extent, with gashes melted by grazing hits from rifles and sabers.

On the other hand, with the return of Kira, Mu, and Ken -even if Ken was too badly hurt to join the battle- it appeared that things were finally turning to their advantage... at last.

Not that there wasn't still a battle to remember going down.

The three X-number pilots from _Dominion_ were badly outnumbered now, but they had no intention of going down without a fight. They'd been sent here to destroy the traitorous _Archangel_ and the other forces that had joined DiFalco, and that was exactly what they were going to do... or that was the general idea, at least.

_Anything to avoid that kind of pain,_ Orga thought, firing his bazooka and ram cannon at the Freedom. _That really stinks..._

Kira threw himself to one side, cartwheeling out of the attack's path, and returned fire... just as the Forbidden hit him in the back with its scythe. Though lacking the mass to do actual damage, it sent him into a spin, effectively knocking him out of the fight for several moments.

"Oh, no, you don't," Athrun hissed... and chopped with his beam staff.

Shani hissed in rage as his scythe split in two. "Why, you-!"

He never had time to finish the sentence, as ship-grade laser cannons opened up on him.

Mobile suits scattered in all directions before the insane rush of the _Nazca_-class destroyer that bore down on them. Either side could've taken it apart with ease, but none wanted to risk getting rammed by the seemingly-suicidal ship as it charged straight at the Earth Forces Second Fleet.

More specifically, at the _Independence..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Can anyone tell me what's going on here?" Murrue demanded. "Where'd that ZAFT ship come from, and why isn't it shooting at us?" 

"I don't know why it isn't shooting, Captain," Sai answered, gazing intently at his displays, "but it's the _Nacht Jaeger."_ He glanced up. "Maybe, with Tempest gone, it's going on a suicide mission...?"

_"It's Kreitzman,"_ a new voice rasped, and she jumped, because it was coming from her intercom panel... from the Infirmary, in fact.

"Ken...?"

_"It's Kreitzman,"_ Ken repeated; his voice was weak, but lucid. _"He was probably the last person in ZAFT to consider Victor a friend; now that he's gone, he's probably trying to settle accounts."_ He paused. _"Do we know who's in charge of the _Independence

"It's one Rear Admiral Charles Kreitzman," Alicia Cateau responded from her usual place on the Bridge. "Shortly before I left the Alliance, he was given direct command of the ship." She frowned. "Wait. Kreitzman...?"

_"Charles Kreitzman is Kyle's father,"_ Ken confirmed. _"I don't know all the details -when I knew him, back when _Nacht Jaeger_ was stuck ferrying the Gray Demons around, he didn't like to about it- but apparently Charles' wife had their son made a Coordinator. He never forgave her for it... and never acknowledged Kyle as his son. If I had to guess, my compatriot is now intent on settling accounts."_ He paused, then resumed with a thoughtful tone._"On the plus side, whatever damage he inflicts here will very likely convince the Earth Forces to retreat."_

"That _would_ be good," Murrue agreed; but she then glared at the intercom panel. "But _you_ should be resting; I'm surprised Doctor Hibson is even letting you talk."

_"I gave him a choice: turn on the intercom, or watch me feel my way to the Bridge, with three holes in me and no eyes."_ A weak chuckle. _"The good doctor saw reason immediately."_ His voice turned serious. _"Besides, I thought I might need to remind you about something. You're locked on to the _Nacht Jaeger,_ right?"_

"Yes, Falcon," Natarle acknowledged. "We are. Why?"

_"Remember what I told you a few months ago? Target the spot where the starboard engine pod meets the ship; hit it hard enough..."_

"And she'll tear herself apart." She nodded. "Right, Falcon. Captain, permission to engage?"

Murrue started to answer, but Flay spoke first. "Captain, we're picking up a transmission to the _Independence,_from the _Nacht Jaeger;_ should I put it on?"

The captain thought about it, and smiled slowly. "Yes, Flay, do that... Natarle, hold your fire for a few moments; I want to hear what the son has to say to the father."

_"And besides, it'll give the Earth Forces something else to think about, right?"_ Ken said dryly.

"Let's just say you're rubbing off on me, Ken." Smiling, Murrue nodded to Flay. "Put it on."

_"This is the ZAFT _Nazca_-class destroyer _Nacht Jaeger, a voice said, surprisingly steady under the circumstances, _"calling the Earth Alliance Forces Second Fleet flagship, _Independence._ Please respond,_Independence."

Another, warier voice came back immediately. _"This is Rear Admiral Charles Kreitzman, on the _Independence._What do you want?"_

A brief pause. _"This is Captain Kyle Kreitzman,"_ the first voice said finally. _"It's been a long time... Father."_

_"I have no son,"_ the elder Kreitzman said immediately, and harshly. _"I don't know who you are, but-"_

_"Spare me, Father,"_ Kyle said coldly. _"I know you never forgave Mother for making me what I am, but that's no excuse for judging _me_ based on what was done before my birth! I could no more help being born a Coordinator than you could change being born a Natural."_

A long pause. _"I don't acknowledge a space monster as my own flesh and blood,"_ Charles said in a quiet, dangerous voice. _"My wife never understood-"_

_"Mother's _dead_ because of you, Father,"_ Kyle ground out viciously. _"You left her to die in that attack fifteen years ago; now you'll pay the price!"_

Sai glanced up in CIC. "Captain, the _Nacht Jaeger_ is on a collision course for the _Independence!"_

Murrue's eyes snapped to the main display. The _Nazca_ was indeed heading straight for the _Agamemnon_-class flagship of the Second Fleet. It was taking fire from other ships -indeed, even the three X-number mobile suits from_Dominion_ had abandoned their attack on the _Archangel_'s forces, in an attempt to stop the oncoming ship- but as had been the case since the days of sailing ships, it was very difficult to stop a vessel intent on ramming, no matter how much damage she received along the way.

The elder Kreitzman's voice came through one more time. _"Captain Kreitzman... Kyle, I-"_

Impact.

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Admiral Hamilton winced at the tremendous explosion. The collision between _Nacht Jaeger_ and _Independence_had sent out a blast of debris large enough to take two other ships with it; yet more casualties in an increasingly bloody day. 

"So you weren't joking when you spoke to Admiral Kreitzman of his son," Azrael murmured, through his shock. "I thought you were kidding..."

The admiral shook his head. "No. It wasn't well known -Charles didn't like to talk about it, with good reason- but twenty-five years ago he had a family; a wife and a daughter. The daughter died of cancer, and that drove his wife to make their unborn son into a Coordinator." He sighed. "When Charles found out, he divorced her, and never acknowledged Kreitzman as his son; in the end, she died in a terrorist attack -we think it was a group with ideals not unlike our own- and the son, Kyle, joined ZAFT when it was formed."

"And now the entire family is dead..." the Director murmured. "A shame; I see now what Admiral Kreitzman must've gone through. Lost his daughter to disease, then the rest of his family to a betrayal of the natural order."

"And now he's dead, too," Hamilton said grimly, "and for nothing." He nodded at the battle still going on outside. "I'm sorry, Director, but we've lost here today. DiFalco's people inflicted significant losses all by themselves; and with the Fleet flagship gone..."

Azrael nodded reluctantly. "Understood, Admiral." He shrugged. "Well, we hurt them, at least; next time, maybe we'll finish them. Send the order to retreat. We're returning to lunar headquarters; if nothing else, this 'True ZAFT' faction will undoubtedly turn up when we launch our final attack against the PLANTs."

"Agreed. DiFalco may have betrayed ZAFT, but it's obvious his goal is still -in whatever twisted fashion- the defense of his homeland." Hamilton turned away, and began issuing orders to withdraw.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Murrue let out a heartfelt sigh as the Earth Forces began an orderly retreat. "Well, that was interesting," she murmured. "I guess we owe Kreitzman one." 

_"He didn't do it for us, Murrue,"_ Ken said quietly. _"I think loyalty to Victor was all that was holding Kreitzman back; with him gone, Kyle was free to avenge his family..."_

She nodded wordlessly; that fir with what she'd heard of the conversation between father and son, before the two ships collided. _He must've waited years for that moment; but how did he convince his crew to go along with it? Hm..._

The question was answered a moment later, by Tonomura. "Detecting escape pods, Captain," he reported. "It looks like _Nacht Jaeger_ got her crew off before the end..." He stiffened. "Captain, they're being recovered by the remaining ZAFT vessels... except the _Vesalius._ Ma'am, she's heading this way."

Murrue frowned. "Alone? But... why?"

Natarle tapped her armrest. "Either it's a trick, or..."

_"I think it's a trick, all right,"_ Ken said slowly, _"but we're not the ones being tricked."_ There was something odd about his voice; some kind of deep-seated anger. _"Is _Vesalius_ launching mobile suits?"_

"Affirmative," Sai answered. "Four GINNs, and a CGUE. Why?"

_"That makes sense... Murrue, I think Rau is planning more treachery against his own people."_

Murrue tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

There was no mistaking the revulsion in Ken's voice now. _"I think that bastard told Captain Ades that, while he's on his own at first, the others will join him as soon as rescue operations are complete. What is probably going to happen in reality, though, is that _Vesalius_ will reach us long before then... and be destroyed with all hands. Not only would that appease Rau's desire for destruction, but it would also give ZAFT another reason to hate us."_

"Unfortunately," Natarle put in unhappily, "we don't really have any choice but to oblige him. We've all taken hits; if we don't stop that ship fast, he might succeed in taking one of us down with him."

_"I know."_ There was a pause; one long enough that Murrue thought for a moment that Ken had finally passed out, but he soon spoke again. _"All right. Recover our mobile suits, then launch Mu and the Preybird; he should be enough to deal with the GINNs... and I have a feeling Rau will feel like gloating. If it's Mu out there, we might gain some useful intelligence... as if we needed any more."_

Murrue nodded. "All right, we'll do that. And now, Ken," she said sternly, _"you_ need to rest, understand? I won't have you dying on us now."

There was no response for several moments; and then Doctor Hibson's voice came on. _"Don't worry, Captain; I gave him a slow-acting sedative. It kept him awake long enough to finish the main battle, but he'll be out for the next several hours now."_

She smiled. "Good, Doctor." She pressed a button on her intercom panel. "Mu, are you there? Ken says to launch you."

_"I heard,"_ Mu replied. _"I'm already on it."_

* * *

Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

Flying out to meet the oncoming ZAFT ship, Mu had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Something wasn't right here... more than just the trap Ken was predicting. 

_Something wasn't right with Ken,_ he realized. _Even he usually has the good sense to rest after getting injured; and directing a space battle from your sickbed isn't exactly restful. Sounds like he took Le Creuset's words a little too seriously... and now he's even more determined to compensate for his error..._

The fact that he wasn't used to piloting Preybird didn't help his mood any. He'd have preferred flying the Strike, despite Preybird's greater combat ability -since, after all, he knew all of Strike's idiosyncracies by now- but with the older machine lying in a battered heap within Mendel's secondary harbor, he'd have to take what he could get.

His thoughts were swiftly derails by the Preybird's unique displays bringing to his attention the approach of five mobile suits; four GINNs and a CGUE. He bared his teeth in a snarl. "Is that you, Rau Le Creuset?"

From the CGUE, Le Creuset laughed. "Mu La Flaga! I should've known; how _is_ Falcon, anyway? I do hope I didn't manage to kill him just yet."

"No," Mu acknowledged. "He's not dead yet. But _you're_ about to be!"

"I think not." Le Creuset glanced at his companions. "You four break off; engaging that machine with GINNs is suicide, and we've lost enough today."

"Yes, Sir. But... what about you, Sir?"

He laughed. "Don't worry about me; I've fought the Hawk of Endymion before. Ades?"

_"Here, Commander."_

"Begin the pincer; signal the other ships to move in immediately." Le Creuset smiled thinly. "Not what Falcon predicted, is it, Mu? Ha; you've gotten too used to thinking of him as infallible. Time to show you your folly!"

Mu felt his blood run cold. _He's right; and that's exactly what Falcon would say if he was conscious..._ He keyed his radio. _"Archangel,_ this is La Flaga; it's a trap. Repeat, it's a trap!"

_"Understood,"_ Murrue said immediately. _"Don't worry; Miss Lacus has a plan."_

He felt his eyebrows rise. _Lacus_ had a plan? _I guess she's not just a pop star after all..._ "Roger that; I'll keep Le Creuset busy in the meantime."

_"Thanks. _Archangel,_ out."_

Le Creuset hadn't heard the content of the transmission, but he could make a few guesses. "Going to try and hold me off, eh, Mu? That's fine with me; you may even succeed. But even you should be aware of the damage your ships have suffered today."

"It won't be enough," Mu told him, and drew one of Preybird's beam sabers. Theoretically, he could've blown the CGUE away with any number of other weapons... but he didn't want to take the chance. He remembered all too well what Le Creuset had done to the Strike's gunbarrel pack. "Come and die, jackal!"

Somehow, he wasn't surprised when the CGUE drew a DEEP Arms-issue laser sword; Le Creuset wouldn't have sounded so confident if he didn't have a way to parry energy weapons. "I'm not going to die today, Mu; if for no other reason than you being the wrong person. I refuse to be defeated before I have another duel with my other son!"

That did it. "You are _not_ our father!" Mu snarled, and attacked. Blade clashed with blade; and eight warships began to converge on the same point in space...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"What's the status of the Fleet?" Murrue asked, never taking her eyes from the approaching enemy. "How many effectives do we have?" 

Flay consulted briefly in low tones with the other ships before answering. _"Arkbird_ cannot assist," she said at last. "Their engines are almost completely offline; they're currently retreating to Mendel for repairs, and... Captain Cooper says he's going to send a team to retrieve the Strike and..." She paused. "...A body?" She shook it off, returning to the matter at hand. "_Asmodeus_ is also hanging back; their weapons took severe damage during the battle with Second Fleet. Raiden has launched to cover them. _Eternal _and _Kusanagi_ are with us, however."

Murrue nodded. "Three against four... but if Miss Lacus' notion is right, it'll be enough." She remembered what the young woman had said, upon hearing Ken's assessment of the situation.

_"I'm not so confident that this is a trap of that sort,"_ Lacus had said. _"Commander DiFalco may be right, but it would be unwise to base our strategy entirely on that idea."_

"What do you suggest?" Murrue had said in turn.

_"We should still concentrate on _Vesalius;_ but with all our ships. I believe that if we can destroy that ship, their entire strategy will fall apart. Even if that's not quite correct, that ship _is_ the only one directly in our path. Knock it out, and we can break through."_

"What about the _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus?_ What happens to them, if ZAFT doesn't break off?"

Tom had taken that one. _"We can still defend ourselves, Captain Ramius; we may not be able to maneuver very well, but a _Nazca_ or _Laurasia_ would be committing suicide by trying to come after us. You worry about getting through their little trap, Murrue."_

Now Murrue nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Target all weapons on the _Vesalius,"_ she ordered, then paused. "Amend that. Target Gottfrieds and Lohengrin on the _Vesalius;_ prepare a missile spread for the other ships. _Eternal, Kusanagi,_ focus all attacks on the _Vesalius."_

_"Roger that,"_ Waltfeld acknowledged.

_"Understood,"_ Kisaka concurred. _"Targeting Lohengrin on the _Vesalius."

From the looks of things, it wouldn't be the longest battle _Archangel_ had ever participated in; fire was beginning to come in from the trio of _Nazcas_ and the _Laurasia,_ but with the _Archangel_'s laminated armor, and the attacks being spread between three separate targets, the threat was negligible.

_Fortunately,_ she thought. _We can't afford another battle like the last one until we've had at least a week to repair..._

On her main screen, Murrue could see Preybird and the CGUE dueling across space, twisting and dashing around each other, their blades occasionally clashing in a brilliant fury of light. Le Creuset was clearly a superb pilot, though, if he was surviving that long against Preybird... _Of course, there's also the fact that Preybird is optimized for Ken; Mu's probably having to struggle with it a little, even with the Natural OS in operation..._

No. A long battle this would not be... which made her suspicious that Ken was at least partly right, after all.

_"Vesalius_ in range," Natarle reported, just as the ship shook from a glancing beam hit. "Other ships entering range," she added unnecessarily. "Captain?"

Murrue nodded. "Fire!"

* * *

_Vesalius,_ Bridge/Outside Mendel Colony

* * *

The same command rang out on three other ships, and _Vesalius_ found itself on the receiving end of fire from all three True ZAFT vessels while only being able to target one herself. The results, despite the supporting fire from the other ships, were entirely predictable. 

Fredrik Ades gritted his teeth as his ship's emerald beams were effectively canceled by the oncoming fire. Positron cannon fire from _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi,_ accompanied by beam cannons from the same ship, and massive plasma fire from the _Eternal_'s METEOR units. _To go down like this, without even scoring a hit of our own..._

The entire ship shook violently, and it was a miracle it didn't instantly explode. "Massive damage!" an officer screamed. "Hull breaches on Decks Three and Four... too many to count! Sodium walls damaged! We can't control the plasma flow!"

Captain Fredrik Ades slowly stood, and raised a hand in salute to his killers. "If we die here today," he whispered, "at least we die for what we believe in. Goodbye, Commander Le Creuset... and well met, Commander DiFalco."

He vanished from the universe, along with his entire crew.

The Justice stood with the Freedom atop the _Archangel_'s bow deck, with Duel and Buster behind them; and on _Asmodeus_' bow, Raiden stood at attention. Four pilots who had known the ship well watched _Vesalius_ die, and, as one, Athrun Zala, Yzak Joule, Dearka Elsman, and Nicol Amalfi saluted their fallen comrades.

"Goodbye, Captain Ades," Athrun whispered, feeling numb.

Rau Le Creuset, on the other hand, instantly broke off his duel with the Preybird. "Another time, Mu!" he called, and shot away, toward his surviving ships. "May we meet again someday!"

"You jackal," Mu hissed, and almost went after the fleeing CGUE; but the pain in his side told him he wasn't in any shape to go too far from the ships. His wound, while bandaged, was by no means healed. "I'll get you next time, I swear..."

"Attention all units," Le Creuset transmitted. "Head for the rendezvous point; there's nothing more to be gained here. I promise you, however, that the Grimaldi Falcon will pay for this."

Inwardly, though, he was very pleased indeed. _There... another step on the road to annihilation. And Falcon will know it; he'll know there's no other way he could've won with barely a scratch..._

ZAFT retreated, leaving the battlefield to the dead and Mendel to the battered True ZAFT forces. All knew that the war was far from over...

* * *

Author's note: The truth sealed in Mendel has been revealed... yet some is yet to be spoken. Soon, the Victorian Kestrel and the surviving Gray Demons must come clean about what they know... 

Meanwhile, the Earth Alliance has been driven off in defeat... but at what cost? The Grimaldi Falcon's greatest battles are yet to be fought...

All right, as I promised, the chapter has taken less than two weeks this time. Faster than I expected, really; one of those times when the right words came easily. And yes, I know, there are still a few questions left, and I meant to answer them in this chapter; however, the events I _did_ cover turned out to be much longer than I expected, so I thought it best to save the next scenes for the next chapter. In the meantime, though, there's this; let me know if it was any good. -Solid Shark


	40. Chapter 40: Zantetsuken

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

The Odin does not belong to me; it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

_Archangel,_ Infirmary, July 10th, C.E. 71

* * *

When Murrue stepped into the Infirmary, following the battle, she somehow wasn't surprised to see that Ken was conscious, despite the grievous wounds he'd suffered during the events within the Mendel colony itself. He was hooked up to several life support systems, but his expression indicated that he was lucid. 

Though it was a little hard to _read_ his expression, since there was a bandage over the place where his eyes used to be.

"Hello, Ken," she greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've just had my eyes cut out, then been shot three times in the torso," Ken replied, with a weak chuckle. "Ask the doc; he knows better than I."

Murrue turned to the ship's doctor. "How is he, then?"

"His condition is perplexing," Doctor Hibson said bluntly. "He lost his spleen, injured his right kidney, and took heavy damage to his prosthetic lung, not to mention losing a lot of blood; were it anyone else, I'd say he ought to be dead. Actually, by the medical science I know, he _should_ be dead... except that something seems to have thrown a wild card into the deck." He turned to the injured pilot. "Let me ask you something, Commander: have you ever suffered nerve damage before?"

Ken took a few moments replying. "My left arm was paralyzed after a training accident in flight school," he said finally. "A week later it was fine. Why?"

"Because your eyes seem to be regenerating."

Murrue's eyes widened. "I didn't know that was possible."

"Neither did I," Hibson informed her. "But the Commander here seems to have phenomenal regenerative traits; not enough to grow a new lung or spleen, but good enough to keep him alive till we fix it, and apparently good enough to grow a new pair of eyes."

"So there _is_ a silver lining," Ken muttered. "There may be one problem, though. Do you have any idea if Metzinger's genetic modifications will resurface?"

Hibson shrugged, knowing the ace was referring to the enhanced visual spectrum of his left eye. "I have no idea, Commander; it's too early to tell. You might come out of it with two normal eyes, one normal and one modified, or... both modified."

"Wonderful," the ace grunted.

Murrue cleared her throat. "In the meantime, I guess this means you won't be flying, hm?"

He shook his head. "Not necessarily. ZAFT has devices that give blind pilots full vision; they're usually in the form of goggles, which I don't have access to at the moment, but Preybird is equipped with a similar system." He smiled thinly. "I prepare for all contingencies, remember."

"So I see. But what about when you're _not_ in the cockpit?"

"Same way I found my way around Mendel, after Victor blinded me. Remember, spatial awareness isn't entirely dependent on eyesight; rarely are all the units on the battlefield visible from the same angle." He tilted his head. "Hearing helps, too; I knew it was you coming in from the sound of your footsteps." The ace's head turned toward Hibson. "Doctor, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with the Captain in private for a few moments."

The doctor hesitated, glanced at the vital readouts next to the bed, and nodded. "Very well, Commander; let me know if I'm needed."

After he'd gone, Murrue raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Ken?"

Ken sighed, relaxing against the sickbed. "I found out a lot of things, in Mendel," he said quietly. "We all did; and I expect Kira's even worse off than I am, right now. The secrets in that place..." He took a deep breath. "I now know who and what Rau Le Creuset is."

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

He touched a photo album that lay on a bedside table, which Mu had brought back from Mendel after retrieving the Strike. "I'd always wondered," he began, "how he ended up with a name like Le Creuset. It's French, and means 'The Crucible'; apparently, he gave himself the name years ago. Rau Le Creuset... Rau, apparently, is an anagram for what appears to be his true name, Aru, which makes him Aru the Crucible. How appropriate..."

Murrue sat on a nearby stool, and looked at him with concern. "Are you feeling all right, Ken?"

He smiled faintly. "As 'all right' as I can be, under the circumstances; if I'm rambling, bear with me. It's pertinent. Anyway, I think he calls himself the Crucible because he wants to bring the entire world down with him, when he dies; and he doesn't have much time left." Ken raised his sightless gaze to her eyes. "He's a clone, you see... a clone of my true father, Al Da Flaga."

She blinked. "He... he's a clone...? But... cloning's been illegal for decades, even before the Torino Protocol was put in place. Unless..."

Ken nodded. "That's right. I don't have any memories of my father -after all, I was created from preserved genetic material well after both of my biological parents died- but according to Mu, he was a tyrannical man... and an arrogant one. He couldn't stand the thought of dying; he sought immortality. Even the latest-generation genetic engineering can't accomplish that, of course, and even if it could, gene manipulation is still limited almost exclusively to prenatal treatments. But in his mind, cloning was apparently good enough; I don't think he realized that a copy of his body wouldn't have the same mind, that he himself would cease to exist, even if an exact copy were created of his mind."

"Or maybe he was satisfied with _genetic_ immortality," she suggested.

He shrugged. "Possible; it would explain some of the things we found at GARM. In any case, Da Flaga sought out one Doctor Ulen Hibiki, and offered to fund his research and experiments in exchange for the doctor cloning him." The ace grimaced. "The first fruit of that project was Aru La Flaga, now known as Rau Le Creuset. Apparently, his aging was deliberately accelerated, so that he could replace Mu as Da Flaga's heir... but when the time came, they found they couldn't reverse the effects. Rau still ages too quickly, thanks to shortened telomeres; he has to take special medication to delay the onset of organ degeneration."

Murrue shuddered. "No wonder he was driven mad..."

"Yes." Ken clenched a fist. "He wants to take the whole world down with him, too... and _I'm_ the stupid bastard who gave him the one tool he truly needs to accomplish it. My folly in creating both the original Shiva Option and GENESIS has made me the man responsible for the demise of humanity; the architect of Armageddon..."

She flinched, hearing the self-condemnation in his voice, and took a moment to collect her thoughts. _He really believes it... He believes that he's responsible for whatever Le Creuset does with GENESIS... and that'll tear him apart, in the long run._

"Now listen to me, Ken," she began, looking at him sternly; though the expression was wasted, considering that he was blind. "What a single madman does with your creation is _not_ your responsibility; you weren't the one who created Rau Le Creuset, and you certainly weren't the one who drove him mad. If anyone is to blame, it's your father. You designed GENESIS as an instrument of peace, remember."

"I was also the idiot who turned it into a weapon of war," he reminded her. "Its construction proceeded quite nicely under _my_ direction, remember."

"And if it had been used for the purpose you intended, it would've been a good idea," Murrue said quietly. "Highly destructive, yes; but the Second World War was won through similar desperate measures... and you were a little more circumspect than the engineers of the Manhattan Project."

That, to her relief, provoked a small smile of amusement. "That's true; I realize the situation was hardly ideal, but I don't think it was very smart of them to test a nuclear bomb when they weren't even sure the reaction would _stop. _Blowing up the planet is a rather extreme way of winning a war, I think." The smile vanished. "Of course, that's pretty much what GENESIS will do, if it's ever fired..."

She started to speak again, then paused, an arrested expression on her face. "GENESIS must be complete by now," she said slowly, "since after all, the N-jammer canceler technology's been around for months, which should be ample time for that. So... why hasn't Zala fired it already?"

Ken chuckled humorlessly. "Because he isn't a _complete_ idiot. Look, Murrue, anti-Natural sentiment is strong in the PLANTs right now, but very few of even the radicals would support committing genocide on that scale. If he attempted it now, he might well face a coup d'etat, even without the intervention of the few sleeper agents I still have within ZAFT. At the least, he'd be forced out of office by a special election." He shook his head. "No, Murrue, Patrick won't dare fire until a situation arises where he has an excuse to, like a massive attack on the PLANTs. Even there, he'll have to start small; probably by using it for its intended FACM function."

"Too bad that's the very situation we're trying to engineer," she said sadly.

He sighed. "I know, Murrue... but this is the only way we were able to come up with, despite months of planning before I even heard of the _Archangel._ GENESIS must be stopped, but not while the Earth Forces still have massive nuclear strike capability. For now, our only option is the MAD deterrent... until we can force a battle in which we destroy both GENESIS and the majority of the Alliance's nuclear weapons."

Both fell silent for a time after that, both thinking of the devastation they had no choice but to allow to begin. For Ken, of course, it was worse; while Murrue might be thinking of the tragedy that would result if they failed to intercept even one nuclear missile, but _he_ was envisioning what would occur if he failed to destroy GENESIS before it could be turned on Earth itself.

_I'll have some time,_ he told himself. _The first shot will be against the approaching fleet; the second will probably be aimed at Ptolemaeus. It's the third I have to worry about..._

Murrue finally broke the uncomfortable silence. "So, Ken... what exactly was going on with Tempest? Did you learn anything, before he died?"

Ken nodded. "I did indeed. Victor was another clone of my father."

She blinked. "Another one? But... he didn't even have the same hair color..."

"Mu was in here earlier," he explained obliquely, "and told me what was on the disc Victor gave me. It seems that, after his lab was attacked and I was lost, Doctor Metzinger came up with an idea to replace me: in this case, starting with the same preserved genetic material that had been used to create me, but through direct cloning, instead of artificial insemination. Based on his experience with Rau -Metzinger used to be one of Hibiki's assistants- he knew that, if I were to ever run into Victor, I'd be able to sense him, the same way I do Rau; and also, if -as turned out to be the case- he were to encounter Rau, they'd recognize each other for what they were. So, Metzinger did some genetic manipulation beyond merely making Victor a Coordinator. Using the so-called 'designer children' process, he changed Victor's hair color, and used a couple of tricks to cancel the 'psychic resonance' effect."

Murrue shuddered. "But... Metzinger had to have known Tempest would suffer from the same accelerated aging as Le Creuset..."

Ken nodded. "Yes, he knew; but he didn't care. See, it was about this time that Metzinger and Hibiki embarked on another experiment... one to create the so-called 'Ultimate Coordinator'. The first fruits of that project were a fellow by the name of Canard Pars... and me. They used what Metzinger had learned from my creation and Pars' supposed failure to make Victor, essentially as a test bed for the techniques they would soon use on one final test subject." He shrugged painfully. "Victor was nothing more than a throwaway; an intermediate step between myself and the Ultimate Coordinator."

She felt her eyes narrow. "And... was there ever a successful test subject from that effort?"

"Two." The expression on his face wasn't a pleasant one. "And that's why Le Creuset led us into GARM... because their names are Cagalli Yula Athha, and Kira Yamato."

Murrue gasped. "Kira and Cagalli are...? I didn't even know Cagalli was a Coordinator..."

"Neither does she," he said quietly. "I knew, though. That day, in Africa, when we sparred... I knew no Natural could've done what she did. I've heard of prodigies, but even that couldn't account for her skill. I've been studying martial arts since I was very young, Murrue, and I'm the product of a program intended to create the perfect soldier. In competition I've defeated Coordinators who are older than I am without much difficulty; yet she, while not quite my equal, threw me around like a rag doll." He shook his head. "But even I never suspected _this..."_

_That's... that's barbaric..._ "That's the sickest thing I ever heard..." She cleared her throat. "Does either of them know?"

"Kira does," Ken answered. "It nearly broke him, too... but he's a tough kid. Cagalli, though... unless Kira's told her, or Sophia, I don't think so."

Murrue tilted her head. "What does Sophia know?"

"I don't know; but I'm convinced she knows _something."_ He clenched a fist. "If Metzinger weren't dead, I'd kill him... and Hibiki, too. Those twisted men killed who knows how many embryos before they finally produced a viable subject. If it weren't for the fact that my modifications were less extreme, the odds are good _I_ wouldn't be here, either."

She nodded slowly. "How different _are_ you from them? And how different are they from each other?"

"Theoretically, they have the same capabilities," Ken said slowly. "Cagalli may not exhibit much evidence of it, but that's because she, unlike Kira, was raised to believe she was a Natural. She's inhibited by her own beliefs." He paused. "As for how I differ from them, that's hard to say. In purely combat-related areas, I'm actually superior to Kira; my reflexes are measurably faster, I have far greater spatial awareness, and my body is more resilient... as we can tell from my regenerative capabilities. Kira and Cagalli, however, have high neural conduction rates, and are more balanced; where I was enhanced greatly in specific areas, they received lesser enhancement to _everything._" He snorted. "Rau was right about one thing: mankind tried to play God, and sorrow is the result..."

Murrue closed her eyes. "Yes..." _What could drive someone to _do_ things like that to their own? And... how did Cagalli become involved in the project in the first place?_ She almost asked Ken, but realized then that _he_ didn't know either. _Sophia, on the other hand..._

As though sensing her thoughts, Ken nodded. "Yes; I think Sophia has some explaining to do. I have a feeling she knew all along about Hibiki... and that she's known, at least since Orb, about Cagalli."

"Probably... but don't be too harsh with her," she suggested. "Think about it from her point of view. Would _you_feel comfortable telling someone they exist only because of some madman's twisted experiment?"

He grimaced. "Point. Besides, I don't exactly have the energy to be harsh right now."

Murrue smiled. "I can see that; I really think you need to rest." She started to stand, then paused. "Ken... if you're more capable as a soldier, but Kira has more genetic enhancements overall... which of you is better in the cockpit? If it came down to it, which of you would win, if you fought?"

Ken shrugged. "I have no idea, Murrue," he said quietly. "There are more factors than mere genetics involved. Genes govern your _potential_ strengths, _potential_ destiny... but that's not all there is to life. You know the old argument of Nature versus Nurture; it's always been my view that nurture is the greater factor. Also... the strength of your convictions plays a tremendous role. You have to have the will to see it through to the end, no matter what."

"Then it sounds like you'd be about even," she opined. "Kira's shown his conviction by returning to the battlefield after the destruction of the Strike, and _you've_ been on this path, despite fighting with the Earth Forces and even killing your own fellow ZAFT soldiers, for months now."

"That's true," he concurred. "But there's one difference between Kira and me." He paused significantly. "He doesn't see that sometimes you have to see it through to the very end... to the death."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Deck

* * *

It took a concerned Cagalli several hours to find Kira; for some reason, he'd simply disappeared after returning to the ship following the battle... and that was so unlike him that she was getting quite worried. 

She finally found him in the place where, upon further reflection, she should have looked first. He'd changed back into the red uniform his alliance with Ken's forces had bestowed on him... and also wore an expression of deep depression, as he floated before the huge viewport.

Cagalli quietly drifted up next to him. "Kira? ...Are you okay?"

Kira jerked, startled by her arrival. "Oh, uh, hi, Cagalli..." He looked away, staring off into deep space. "It's... it's nothing, really."

"Don't try to tell me that, Kira. You're a terrible liar." She gripped his shoulder and glared at him. "Something happened in Mendel; what was it? And don't try to tell me you don't want to talk about it, because I'm not leaving until you answer me."

"I..." He sighed, and looked away again. "I found out that... I'm not who I thought I was. That my parents weren't who I thought they were."

Cagalli blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I was... created, as part of an experiment," Kira said, voice slow and painful. "My real father was... a man named Ulen Hibiki, a colleague of Metzinger, the man responsible for Ken's birth. He... sought to create the Ultimate Coordinator, by using advanced genetic engineering techniques and an artificial womb, like the one Ken was born in." He clenched a fist, and swallowed a lump in his throat. "I used to have a lot of siblings... and they were sacrificed so that two subjects would be born. Even... even Ken's student, Tempest, was created just for that."

She shook her head in confusion, trying to understand what he was talking about. "Wait a minute, Kira. You're telling me that the people who raised you weren't your real parents? And that... you were used, like Ken was?" At his unwilling nod, she shook her head again. "But... Kira, I'm sure this is a shock, but why you should you worry so much about what happened before you were born?"

"Don't you get it?" he said despairingly. "I exist only because of some madman trying to 'perfect' humanity; and in the process, he killed dozens of unborn children... which makes me a murderer since before I was even born!"

Cagalli recoiled from the vehemence of his reaction. _It must've been Le Creuset,_ she thought viciously. _That bastard messed with Kira's head out there... Even if it's true, the only way it matters is the way Le Creuset used it. It shouldn't matter to Kira how he was born!_

"Kira," she said slowly, pulling him into an embrace, "what happened before you were born isn't your fault. _You_weren't the one who decided to do things like that; it was scientists like Metzinger and this Hibiki. You're not responsible for the sins of your father." She gave him a hard stare. "Or are you going to tell me that Athrun's responsible for what _his_ father is doing with Ken's weapon?"

"That's-"

"That's different? No, Kira, it isn't; and blaming yourself for what your father did makes even less sense than Athrun blaming himself for his father's genocidal plans. Think about it, Kira," she said in exasperation. "What in the world do you think a fertilized egg can do to affect its own birth?"

Kira, though comforted by her touch, didn't meet her eyes. "I..." He sighed in defeat. "I... just don't know _what_ to think right now..."

Cagalli's gaze softened. "I know, Kira. Learning that must've been a shock; and I'm betting that madman told it to you in the worst possible way. That'd be just like him..." She trailed off, as something he'd said earlier registered. "Wait a second. You said there were _two_ test subjects. Who was the other? Ken?"

He shook his head, still avoiding her eyes. "No; I heard data from Ken was used in the process, but he came before, around the time of my older brother, somebody named Canard Pars." He hesitated as long as he could, before realizing he could delay no more. "The other survivor of the project was..."

"You, I'm afraid, Cagalli," another voice said.

Cagalli's head whipped around, to see Leanne Eldridge enter the compartment. "Leanne.. ?What are you talking about?"

The green-haired Demon smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Cagalli; the more so because I've known about it ever since we escaped Orb."

The younger woman blinked in confusion. "I don't understand. My father... You're saying _I_ was involved in the Mendel experiments? But that's..."

"Impossible?" Leanne shook her head. "No, I'm afraid it isn't. Your father was exactly who you always thought he was, as was your mother; you're not in the same boat as Kira. Nor, in case you're wondering, are you related in any way. You share some genetic traits, but the difference in your family lines means that even those engineered into you aren't identical." She reached into a pocket of her uniform, and fished out the disc she'd received just before the_Archangel_ launched from Kaguya. "This was given to me by Lord Uzumi, just before we took off; it contains data on your birth, Cagalli, along with a few other encrypted files. This disc's data is incomplete, and it seems even Lord Uzumi didn't have the decryption keys... but the Boss's sister had both the missing data _and_ the keys. Together we filled in the gaps, and learned the truth."

"What truth?" Cagalli said, almost in a whisper.

"That you, like Kira, were removed from your mother's womb just after conception, and brought to term in a somewhat more advanced version of the artificial womb that produced the Boss." Leanne shrugged. "Exactly how your mother became involved in the project may never be entirely clear; your father left personal files on the disc, but was apparently reluctant to say exactly how it began. Shame, I suppose. Anyway, as near as we can determine, your mother -without Lord Uzumi's knowledge, at least at first- decided that the Orb royal line would benefit from genetic engineering. So, during a trip to the colonies -before Lord Uzumi knew she was pregnant- your mother sought a reputable -and discreet- geneticist to have you made into a Coordinator." She grimaced. "The geneticist she met was Doctor Ulen Hibiki, who was at the time working on a highly advanced project, which you know about now, involving his own son."

Cagalli remained silent for several moments, reassessing the knowledge based on the new revelation, and Kira took the opportunity to speak again. "Do you..." He cleared his throat. "Do you know who those embryos were? The dead ones we saw at GARM?"

Leanne shrugged again. "Genetically, they were nearly identical to you; though whether the variations were natural or due to the extreme genetic engineering, we may never know. At any rate, they were either direct clones of you, or a whole lot of donated embryos from your mother, Via Hibiki."

He swallowed. "Does that mean... _I'm_ a clone? And if I am... will Le Creuset's fate be mine, too?"

"No," she said firmly. "_You_ are not a clone; that always leaves genetic markers, and none of Metzinger's files -which Sophia recovered several years ago, including references to his work with Hibiki- say anything of the sort. Besides, it's our opinion the others weren't clones, either; Hibiki was trying to create the Ultimate Coordinator, whom he'd presumably have wanted to survive... and he would doubtless have remembered the lessons of Rau Le Creuset and Victor Tempest."

Kira nodded slowly. "But... what does it mean for us now?"

"It means _nothing,_ Kira," Cagalli said sharply, speaking up again at last.

He blinked. "What, Cagalli?"

"I said it means nothing," she repeated firmly. "Who we are now is what matters; genetics govern only what we can do, not who we are inside. You're you, I'm me, that's all that matters."

"Cagalli..."

Leanne smiled slightly, looking for a moment like her commander and distant cousin Ken. "My, my; I always knew you were a self-confident one, Cagalli, but I see now that even my estimates of your strength of will were low. You sure you're not related to the Boss?"

The younger woman managed a small grin. "Who knows? Nobody can figure _his_ genealogy out."

"Right. Well," the Demon murmured, turning to leave, "I'll just move along now, and leave you two alone. I expect you two could use a little privacy."

When the Gray Demon had gone, sealing the hatch behind her, Kira turned back to Cagalli. "Cagalli... are you sure you're okay with this?"

She rolled her eyes. "Kira, I'll admit I'm not happy that my father kept this from me for so long; and I don't like the idea of having been created for that kind of purpose any more than you do. But it's like Ken said, when he found out the truth about Metzinger: what matters is who we are today. We're in the middle of a war, you know; we don't have time to worry about what happened seventeen years ago."

He managed a small smile. "Yeah... I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. Now shut up." Before Kira could get out another word, Cagalli leaned forward and kissed him.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria

* * *

"I just can't quite believe the _Vesalius_ is gone," Athrun murmured. "After all the time I spent on her, it's... it's like a dream..." 

"I know," an unusually subdued Yzak agreed. "I wasn't on her as much as you were, but I know what you mean. She was part of the old team, when we were still trying to take down the _Archangel."_

"Not much left of the team," Nicol, visiting from _Asmodeus,_ added quietly. "Miguel, Rusty, Olor, and Matthew all died at Heliopolis; then Captain Zelman went down with the _Gamow_ when we faced the Eighth Fleet. All that's left now are the four of us... and Commander Le Creuset."

"Le Creuset's days are numbered," Dearka said flatly. "I don't know if you saw Falcon when he got back, but I did. The last time I saw him with _that_ expression, it was just after the Bloody Valentine." He sighed. "The commander deserves to have Falcon on his case, though. It's because of him that _Vesalius_ and Captain Ades are gone..."

Athrun turned slightly. "You sure it was deliberate, Dearka?"

"Falcon is."

Yzak almost snorted, but then thought better of it. "I'd make a snide remark about your faith in DiFalco's infallibility, Dearka," he told Buster's pilot, "except that, as far as I can tell, he hasn't been wrong about _anything _since the blunder that got us all into this mess last year."

Nicol feigned astonishment. "You expressing faith in someone, Yzak? Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Oh, shut up..." Shaking his head with something akin to amusement, Yzak looked out the nearby viewport. "Let me tell you something, though, Nicol: if I hadn't been sure of DiFalco's plans before, I would be now. Commander Le Creuset has to pay for what he's done... and he has to be stopped before he can hurt the PLANTs directly... or my mother."

Nicol nodded in understanding. "I know, Yzak; and I bet Dearka does, too."

Dearka smiled slightly. "Yeah; unlike Nicol here, my dad is still in the PLANTs..." He frowned suddenly. "Nicol, what about your mother? I never thought about it, but only your father came with..."

"She's fine," the younger pilot assured him. "She had to go into hiding, but some of the Commander's sleeper agents are taking care of her, in one of our smaller outposts in the PLANTs; I think it's in one of the agricultural colonies."

"A farmhouse, eh? The classic rural hideout..." Dearka shook his head. "I guess Falcon really does prepare for all contingencies, doesn't he?" He looked back over at Yzak. "You know, Yzak, if you want Le Creuset, you'll have to take a number; you'll be lucky to get anywhere near him before Falcon does something drastic."

Yzak snorted. "Think I don't know that? Believe me, Dearka, I've got no intention of getting between _them; _DiFalco's usually sane enough, but I'm not crazy enough to get anywhere near the kind of fight _that's_ going to be. No, thank you. I'll settle for keeping everybody _else_ busy."

"Agreed." Nicol glanced at his wrist, checking his watch. "Well, I'd better get back to _Asmodeus;_ we're not expecting the Earth Forces to be back any time soon, but I need some sack time."

Yzak nodded. "Agreed. We gave 'em a drubbing, so I don't think they'll be back for a while... but you _know_ it won't be long before DiFalco has us back in action."

Athrun yawned in agreement. "You're probably right, Yzak. I'm gonna visit the _Eternal,_ I think, then get some rest myself. See you."

Within moments, three of the pilots had left, leaving Dearka to stand alone by one of the viewports, feeling pensive. _Man... what a crazy couple of months these have been..._

More like a crazy year, really. First his best friend had turned up missing, with the going theory being that he'd taken his CGUE to the remains of Junius Seven, then blown his own head off with his sidearm. Then Heliopolis had come around, and he'd learned the truth: that the Grimaldi Falcon had abandoned ZAFT, and had chosen to fight against everything he'd once stood for... or so it seemed.

After that had come the months-long chase of the so-called "legged ship", which took the Le Creuset team to Artemis, the Eighth Fleet, and even Earth itself, fighting through desert, ocean, and sky alike... until the fateful day Nicol Amalfi had been shot down and presumed killed.

Only two days later, Dearka had fought with Athrun and Yzak in one final bid to destroy the _Archangel,_ only to be shot down themselves... and there Dearka had learned the truth of Nicol's fate, and been captured by his friend-turned-enemy, under threat from the menacing and lethal Preybird.

Three weeks as a prisoner of war had taught Dearka more about Naturals than the previous seventeen years, and it was then that he'd begun to understand why Falcon had taken his radical course... and why he was so determined to stop his former leader, Patrick Zala, from carrying out his plan. Then the Battle of Alaska, when he'd finally made his fateful choice to throw in with the brilliant, slightly unstable ace...

_What a long road it's been... and a tragic one. But it's like Falcon realized, even before the rest of us: the only real choice was whether to stand by and watch the world go down in flames... or take action, and forever be labeled "traitor"..._

"Dearka? You okay?"

Dearka glanced up from his thoughts, to see Mir entering, a concerned look on her face. "Oh, hi, Miriallia," he greeted. "Yeah, I'm okay... just thinking, that's all."

"About what?" She smiled. "And you can call me Mir, by the way."

"Uh, okay..." He nodded hesitantly, and turned back to the viewport. "I'm just remembering everything that's happened... all the lives that've been lost along the way. The _Vesalius..._ she was part of the team, back when we were chasing you guys."

Mir nodded. "I know; Ken identified the ship back then, when we were escaping Heliopolis." She touched his shoulder. "It must be hard, knowing you have to fight ZAFT."

"It is," Dearka acknowledged. "But it's also the right thing to do. Unfortunately... knowing that I have to do it doesn't really make it any easier. I knew Captain Ades pretty well, and I had friends on that ship... friends who probably never understood what we're trying to accomplish."

She sighed. "Yeah, I can imagine. It's probably the same for the survivors of the _Archangel_'s original crew, too; they didn't have quite the attachment to their homeland that you do, but they must still have friends in the Earth Forces."

"Probably," he agreed. "This is a side of war that they never talk about in stories; they never say what it's like to fight your friends because your conscience forces you to become a traitor to your own military."

"But you're not traitors to your country," Mir told him quietly. "It's like Ken said, the day we came aboard: you're fighting ZAFT, yes, but only because _they've_ betrayed the PLANTs; you still fight for the same reasons as before."

"Yeah; but it's not much consolation, sometimes."

"I bet." Mir tilted her head. "But you know, I've been wondering... why _did_ you decide to fight with us? It wasn't just what Ken said, I'm sure, and even self-preservation couldn't have been enough to sway a soldier; according to Ken, a soldier is supposed to put his mission before his life, after all."

Dearka shifted uncomfortably. "There's a lot of truth in that," he admitted. "The truth is... I wanted to make up for what I did, in the Marshal Islands. I fought because... because of Tolle's death."

She blinked. "Tolle's death...? But... we already established that you didn't do it, Dearka..."

"It was still partly my fault," he insisted. "If I'd been smart enough to understand what Falcon had been trying to tell me all along, I might've stopped the whole thing... Or if I'd been thinking just a little more clearly, not been blinded so much by the need to avenge Nicol's 'death'." He shrugged uneasily. "But even more than that, there's what I said to you in the Infirmary, at Alaska."

"I forgave you for that months ago, Dearka," Mir said, puzzled. "You couldn't have known; and it's not _your_ fault the only Natural you'd ever spent much time around was Ken's sister, back when she was still a sarcastic pain in the neck."

"I know... but I still wanted to make up for it." Dearka finally looked at her again. "And now... Well, I figure protecting you is as good a reason as any to stick around."

She blinked. "...You mean that?"

He had the look of a man who'd said more than he'd really meant to, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah."

Mir smiled tentatively, and laid a hand on his arm. "Well... thanks."

And together, the pair watched the stars go by.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, July 18th, C.E. 71

* * *

It had taken over a week for Ken to recover enough for even a short sojourn out of the Infirmary; and even now he'd have to return there within an hour or two at most. But he had chosen to risk it, because there were things that needed to be said. 

On entering the Bridge, he first nodded to Murrue, then looked over at Flay. "My apologies for taking this long to mention it, Flay," he began, "but I have good news for you: your father has been avenged."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"That body Sparky recovered after the battle? That was Victor Tempest; he's the reason I don't have eyes at the moment, but it cost him his life."

"Um... are you sure they won't just bring him back again?"

He smiled thinly. "I don't think they've developed prosthetic heads yet, Flay."

She blinked again, and there was a general chuckle around the Bridge. Then Murrue broke in, more serious matters on her mind. "So, Ken," she began, "just what is so important that you had to leave the Infirmary?"

Ken shrugged, absently rubbing the bandage where his eyes used to be. "I suppose it's nothing much," he conceded. "But there are a few things I thought I should say."

"So how about you get on with it?" Sophia suggested dryly. "Before you drop dead on your feet, that is."

He would've rolled his eyes, if they'd still existed. "Right, right. Anyway," he said more seriously, "by now you all know what happened back there, within Mendel. Our greatest adversary is no longer Patrick Zala -who is at least somewhat restrained by his position as Supreme Council Chairman- but rather Rau Le Creuset. He's a mad clone of my biological father... and, like Patrick, he's out to create a situation where GENESIS can be fired." He lowered his head. "I take full responsibility for this situation; it was my hand that created the weapon, and my mind that created the plans that Rau is taking advantage of... just as it was my father who created Rau Le Creuset. Worse, the plan I've devised for stopping Rau's madness relies upon the very situation he seeks; in our scenario, the best we can do is stop the nuclear attacks and GENESIS _after_ they've begun."

"It's not your fault, Ken," Kira said quietly. "None of us knew what Le Creuset was up to... and you had the best of intentions when you designed GENESIS."

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," Ken said succinctly. "My intentions are irrelevant; what matters now are the consequences." He slowly turned his head, giving the Bridge crew the eerie impression that he was looking at them, despite his lack of eyes. "We have a hard road ahead; but we've now had a taste of it, thanks to the Second Fleet and Rau's vessels. Our group has faced combat as a single unit for the first time, and now we know we can accomplish the mission. But that was _only_ a taste; now we move on to the operation phase of the Shiva Option. We're planning our first raid within the week." He nodded at Alicia Cateau, standing to one side of the Bridge, as quiet as always. "For this operation, since I'll clearly be in no condition to pilot for some time yet, Alicia here will be piloting Preybird. The objective should be reasonably simple, with her knowledge of Alliance procedures and bases, but we still need every edge we can get."

He paused, and Murrue took it as her cue to speak up. "Meanwhile," she began, "we've received word from our Junk Guild contacts that Rondo Ghina Sahaku has been killed in battle."

Mu whistled. "They got him, did they? How'd he buy it?"

"Apparently," she replied, "he had a run-in with Lowe Guele and Gai Murakumo, and they got tired of his interference. He tried to kill them, and they returned the favor... rather more successfully. This gives us two pieces of good news. First, we've got a potential thorn in our side neutralized; I have no doubt that he'd have sold us out to the Earth Forces the moment it became expedient. More interesting, though, is the fact that his death seems to have soured his sister on the idea of world domination."

Cagalli blinked. "I'd have thought that would take gene therapy to accomplish... or maybe an exorcism."

"Apparently not," Ken said dryly. "And that's good news for us... because Rondo Mina has informed us, through the Junk Guild, that she'll allow us access to Ame-no-Mihashira again, should we find ourselves in need of supplies or a temporary safe haven."

_"That _is_ good news,"_ Kisaka said, from the _Kusanagi. "Surprising, but welcome. They have a fully-equipped mobile suit factory, which will allow us easier access to spare parts."_

"That was my thought," the ace agreed. "In the meantime, however, it's time to make our presence known to the Earth Forces... and ZAFT." He allowed himself another thin smile. "I guarantee they won't enjoy the experience."

* * *

_"They say that there's a fine line between genius and insanity; I don't know, maybe that's true, because there's no doubt Ken's mind was severely affected by the things he went through in that war. My partner was there from the blockade in 69 that was the combat debut of the mobile suit all the way to the Second Battle of Jachin Due. He saw it all... and while another man might've come out of it unscathed, his genius was a little too fragile for that._

_"The Bloody Valentine was the first blow, and the one that would eventually send him down the path toward GENESIS; then came Endymion, and the loss of over half his team. Then he led the battle of Nova... and was elevated to the position of ZAFT's top strategist, while at the same time creating a weapon he hoped would prevent another Bloody Valentine._

_"Learning what his friend and commander in chief Patrick Zala really intended to do with GENESIS continued what the Bloody Valentine started, this time leading him to treason and an obsession that would carry him through the rest of the war. It set into motion one of the most complex and seemingly farfetched schemes of the war... and the weirdest thing is, it worked._

_"After that, the months of planning and later fighting against ZAFT strained him... and then came the Battle of Orb, when nuclear missiles, the very weapon that took Junius Seven from him, were used once again to scorch Orb almost to the ground._

_"Orb wounded him... and Mendel almost destroyed him. Though still fairly cheerful and open with his friends and comrades, Ken spent more and more of his time brooding, splitting his waking hours between his quarters on the _Archangel_ and the _Arkbird_'s war room, always planning the next raid, or going over GENESIS' blueprints, over and over, trying to find another weakness._

_"Even with his eyes still regenerating, there was nothing wrong with his instincts; less than two weeks after Mendel, we took a fortress located at L3 away from the Earth Forces, leaving it abandoned but intact in case we needed a fallback point. Another raid took out an entire convoy, using only the _Archangel_ and Preybird, piloted by Alicia Cateau; and before long, the Earth Forces had given Ken a new nickname: Butcher Bird._

_"The downside to his increased determination was an increased tension between Ken and Kira; Ken never asked him to take part in any of the raids, since Kira was in fundamental disagreement with him over the exact conditions of the Shiva Option, but that didn't change things... and by the time of Jachin Due, they were barely speaking to each other._

_"I guess, then, that what happened there was inevitable..."_

-Cagalli Yula Athha, after the First Bloody Valentine War

* * *

Rogue Escort Ship _Odin,_ Bridge, August 5th, C.E. 71

* * *

"These True ZAFT forces certainly have been busy," a blonde-haired young man in the uniform of an Earth Alliance senior-grade lieutenant murmured, reading a report on a computer clipboard; he sat in the captain's chair. "You think they've actually destroyed that fortress, the way the Earth Forces are claiming?" 

The nearby admiral, occupying a chair similar to the one Azrael used on the _Dominion_ -which made sense, since the two ship classes were very similar, including their internal layout- shook his head. "Unlikely. No doubt the Earth Forces believe they have, but I think it more likely True ZAFT simply moved it somewhere, perhaps using stealth technology of some sort to cover it. No, if the Grimaldi Falcon is still doing their strategic thinking -and these raids of theirs are classic Falcon- they're more likely to keep it around as a fallback position. Their Mendel operations didn't last very long, and, given the civilian population there, they seem to use Ame-no-Mihashira solely as a supply conduit."

"Makes sense," opined a bearded man in a flightsuit, smoking a cigar. "I never ran into the guy, either when he was with ZAFT or his stint in the Earth Forces, but he always did strike me as a clever kind of guy." He blew smoke into the air. "Besides, I _do_ know his Alliance insider, Cateau; she'd know all about the inner workings of convoys and the new fortress. I doubt that idiot Azrael took that into account, given how gleeful he was supposed to be when she got 'captured'."

"Some say he's crazy," the captain mused. "On the face of it, I'd have to agree; I mean, taking on the entire military might of _both_ sides, with just five ships?" He shook his head. "What do _you_ think, Mad Dog?"

"Me?" The pilot smirked. "C'mon, Jason, think about it; if it were crazy, he wouldn't be pulling it off, now would he? Or didn't you notice that only three of their ships participated in the fortress operation?"

"I guess you've got a point," the captain conceded. "But there _is_ a fine line between genius and madness; not to mention that even the Grimaldi Falcon makes mistakes. One of these days, he's going to miscalculate, and they'll get burned."

"True," the admiral murmured. "It would help, too, if we knew exactly what the man was aiming to carry out; then we could more effectively coordinate our efforts with his. On the other hand..." He tapped one of his displays, indicating a report _he'd_ been reading. "According to the latest intercept, Castor Truman's about to try something fancy, which means our clever friend is about to find himself in deep trouble, unless he's developed ESP on top of everything else."

The captain looked up sharply. "They're initiating Dead Zone?"

"They are," the admiral confirmed. "Which means it's time for _us_ to execute Zantetsuken. Are we ready for that, Captain?"

"We are." The younger man looked forward. "Helm, get us moving; we execute Zantetsuken in thirty-six hours."

* * *

Lagrange Point 1, _Archangel,_ Bridge, August 7th, C.E. 71

* * *

"A convoy's here, all right," Natarle murmured, from CIC. "Looks like you called it right, Commander." 

Beside the captain's chair, Ken nodded slightly. "So it would seem; but it was more Alicia's doing than mine. She's the one with the more up to date knowledge of Alliance procedures."

As had become standard operating procedure, only the _Archangel_ had come to this place; early on they'd established that the one ship and her complement of mobile suits were enough to take care of a single convoy. Of the other four, _Arkbird_ was traveling to the dark side of the moon, to complete repairs while simultaneously scoping out the remains of the Eyrie; with her was _Asmodeus,_ flying cover. The _Archangel_-class vessel had repaired the damage she'd suffered at Mendel, but _Arkbird_ had been worse off, and still had yet to make good all the damage.

_Eternal_ and _Kusanagi,_ on the other hand, remained a discrete distance out from the expected battle zone; within range to respond to a request for assistance from the _Archangel,_ yet also far enough away to escape notice in the meantime.

The _Archangel_ herself was currently preparing for combat; though her mobile suit complement was formidable, it was often the ship's own weaponry that made the difference in commerce raiding operations... especially considering that the Freedom was never involved. Kira opposed the entire concept, but, since he had yet to come up with a better idea, the only thing he could -and did- do was refrain from participating himself.

Another disadvantage was the fact that Preybird, while directly involved in the operation, would not be at full efficiency. Alicia Cateau was a fine pilot, but she wasn't in Ken's league... and the ace himself was not yet ready to fly again. He'd attempted to force the issue, but Doctor Hibson had told him in no uncertain terms that, while he might _feel_ ready for it, it would be _most_ inadvisable to stress his body at this point.

Glancing at him sidelong, Murrue had to agree. Ken asserted that his lack of eyes wouldn't hamper him in the cockpit, and she believed him; but he _had_ been shot three times at Mendel, resulting in the loss of his spleen, right kidney, and prosthetic lung. That had been made good, through transplants from Victor Tempest's corpse -unsurprisingly, under the circumstances, the dead clone's organs had been a successful match- and his heart had even been replaced by Erica Simmons with a newer model... but all that surgery had taken its toll, and Hibson refused to allow the ace to risk the stresses of combat until he was farther along on the road to recovery.

_Not that it's mattered much,_ Murrue thought to herself. _So far, the operational phase of the Shiva Option has been going exactly according to plan._

_On the other hand, that's exactly why I'm worried about this..._

"Don't worry," Ken said, as though sensing her thoughts. "This should be no different from the others."

"I agree that there's nothing to indicate anything different," she conceded, "but I've never liked hearing the words 'should be' in reference to planning. Besides, sooner or later the Earth Forces _are_ going to guess correctly about where we'll strike next, and if that were to happen now, it wouldn't be pretty."

"True," he acknowledged. "But I actually suspect we have more to fear from ZAFT at this point; I haven't been able to figure out the purpose behind their more recent movements, and that concerns me."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "Which? Their orbital forces, or the strange lack of activity on the surface?"

"Their space forces; the movements on planet I understand all too well." Ken's voice had turned grim. "As near as I can tell, they've pulled back to their major bases at Kaohsiung, Gibraltar, and Carpentaria, as though they're abandoning offensive operations altogether."

"Captain Cooper says SIGINT indicates they're consolidating in preparation for a strike against the Earth Forces' planet-based nuclear forces," Natarle pointed out. "Are you saying that's a bluff?"

"Not a bluff," he corrected. "A cover story, along the same lines as the threatened attack against Panama, before Operation Spit Break. No, while I have no doubt the nuclear threat is part of the reason for this, I think Patrick's _real_reason is that he's preparing a total withdraw from Earth's surface."

Murrue looked at him sharply. "Total withdrawal? Why? Unless..."

Ken nodded. "Exactly. I think Patrick knows as well as we do that this war's end game has begun, and that things will come to a head within the next month or two. He's preparing to bring ZAFT troops home... so as to minimize friendly-fire casualties when GENESIS is fired." His sightless gaze glared at the blue sphere visible out the viewports. "I doubt he actually cares if he loses his own troops to that, if it means taking out Earth, but he's as aware as I am of how much a of part perceptions play in war. If he plans to retain leadership of the PLANTs, he has to think of the public reaction to using GENESIS when there's still so many ZAFT troops in the line of fire."

"Good point."

"Coming up on the target point, Captain," Neumann called. "Right on schedule."

Murrue nodded. "Good. Jackie, what do we have here?"

"Standard convoy arrangement, Ma'am," Tonomura answered. "No medical ships, just standard supply vessels. Escort consists of... one _Agamemnon_-class, three _Nelsons,_ and four _Drakes._ And..." He paused. "There seems to be something else out there, but I can't get a fix on it. It's probably a radar ghost, but it's like there's small satellites in a globular formation out here. I've never seen anything like it."

Ken frowned. "That escort seems larger than normal; maybe we've got something important on our hands." He idly rubbed the sword scar on his face. "As for the anomalous readings... I can't imagine what that might be. You're probably right about them being radar ghosts, Jackie; keep an eye on it, but concentrate on the known threats."

"Roger, Commander."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "So, we go with it?"

"Yes." The ace reached down, and tapped her intercom panel. "All pilots, this is the Bridge; prepare for launch. Target has been confirmed."

_"Roger that, Falcon,"_ Mu responded. _"By the Book, right?"_

Ken smiled slightly. "I think so, yes; we're picking up some odd radar returns, but we don't think it's anything to worry about. And given the strength of the convoy escort, we may have just stumbled on something important."

_"Got it. We're ready to go."_

The circuit closed, and Murrue nodded at Neumann. "Take us in, Arnold. Natarle, sound Level One Battlestations."

"Yes, Captain."

* * *

_Agamemnon_-class Battleship _John F. Kennedy,_ Bridge

* * *

"Incoming enemy confirmed, Admiral: one _Archangel_-class mobile assault ship, as expected. Launch decks open; probably preparing to deploy mobile suits." 

Vice Admiral Castor Truman smiled. "_Archangel_-class, eh? Well, since two of the three ships of that line are operated by the same group, and we know the _Dominion_ isn't here, I'm guessing that's True ZAFT." His smile became a grin. "Excellent; now we can finally put an end to the Butcher Bird."

_Kennedy_'s fire-control officer turned in his chair. "Are you sure he'll fall for this, Admiral? I mean, this _is_ the Butcher Bird we're talking about..."

Truman waved a hand. "Don't jump at shadows, Lieutenant. I'll be the first to admit that Ken DiFalco is a dangerous opponent; but he's by no means infallible. Endymion was nearly the end of him last year, and according to rumor he was nearly shot to death by his own former comrades at Mendel. Yes, he's a fiendishly good strategist, but remember: overestimating your opponent can be just as dangerous as underestimating him."

"Yes, sir. I'll remember that."

"Be sure you do." He looked over at his flag captain, Jeffrey Schwartz. "How are the preparations going, Jeff? Will we be ready by the time they enter the effective range?"

"It's ready now, Admiral," Schwartz replied. "Dead Zone can be initiated within fifteen seconds of the order being given."

Truman smiled again. "Good, Captain, very good. We'll give them another couple of minutes; I want their mobile suits in range of the effect, as well. Especially Preybird and that Eurasian unit they're using, the Hyperion. Light-wave barriers are a real pain." He frowned. "Oh, yes; and make sure the 'Shocker' is charged, as well."

"But that hasn't been combat-tested yet-" the fire-control officer protested.

"Now is as good a time as any, Lieutenant; and if it _does_ work, we just might be able to take DiFalco's personal machine out of the equation entirely... which is worth any risk the weapon might pose."

"_Archangel_ is launching mobile suits, Admiral," the detection officer reported. "Seven units detected; identified as four of the original G-weapons, one of the ZAFT nuclear-powered machines, the Hyperion... and the Preybird."

Truman nodded. "And no sign of the other ZAFT unit... just as in every other raid they've launched. I wonder why it stays out of it... not that it matters. Makes matter easier for us."

"_Archangel_'s weapons powering up," another officer reported. "We're being targeted by radar and lidar; other ships reporting similar readings."

"We're being hailed by the _Archangel,_ Admiral," the radio operator called.

Truman raised an eyebrow. "Are we, now? Put it through... and prepare to initiate Dead Zone on my mark."

* * *

Lagrange Point 1

* * *

Mu, being their second-most-experienced pilot, led the sortie, Athrun's Justice at his side. The Strike had been fully repaired following its encounter the previous month with Rau Le Creuset's GuAIZ, and he was reasonably confident in the outcome of this battle. 

At least, as confident as he ever got. He was well aware that even his little brother was fallible; that was what had led to him leaving ZAFT in the first place.

"We're going in, Athrun," he called to the Justice. "You ready?"

Athrun nodded sharply. "Yeah. If they don't listen to the Captain's instructions, we go in and blow up the warships, then disable the cargo ships, right?"

"That's the plan."

There was a click over Mu's radio, and the voices of the respective ship commanders came over his speakers._"Attention, Earth Forces warship _Kennedy._ This is Captain Murrue Ramius, True ZAFT Mobile Assault Ship _Archangel._ You are hereby instructed to cut your engines and shut down your weapons immediately."_

The other voice was oddly casual, which set off warning bells in his mind. _"Ramius, eh? Well, this is Vice Admiral Castor Truman, Earth Alliance Forces. Just what makes you think we're going to listen to the demands of pirates?"_

_"Two things, Admiral Truman,"_ Murrue said coolly. _"One: by now we've amply demonstrated what happens when our instructions are _not_ carried out. Two: we are currently aiming sufficient firepower at you to convert your entire convoy to free-floating hydrogen."_ On the monitor, she tilted her head. _"And we're not pirates; merely people trying to stop this war from reaching the genocide stage."_

Truman snorted. _"A little late, 'Captain' Ramius. The only way this war will end is when the PLANTs are destroyed."_

_"It's not going to happen,"_ Ken cut in, from off-screen. _"You're playing with fire, Truman, and you don't even realize it. You should know by now that the Revolution is already won; even with nuclear weapons you're only delaying the inevitable. Admiral Halberton recognized that, even if you don't."_

_"Halberton's dead,"_ Truman said flatly, _"so it doesn't really matter what he thought he recognized about the situation. He never did understand that drastic measures are often necessary in war."_

_"There's a difference between drastic measures and atrocities,"_ Murrue shot back; the slur against her mentor's name had struck a nerve. _"The Admiral understood that. If you don't, then it's clearer than ever that we made the right choice in leaving the Earth Forces."_

_"Treason is the coward's way out,"_ Truman sneered. _"You should've died at Alaska, Ramius, in the fire of the Cyclops; but we'll fix that error now."_

Her eyes narrowed. _"And how do you propose to do _that,_ Admiral? You may have greater numbers, but we have the advantage in firepower; or do you have _Dominion_ waiting the wings?"_

_"I don't need _Dominion." He looked off-screen. _"Captain Schwartz, initiate Dead Zone."_

Mu tensed. _Dead Zone? What is he talking about-_ He cursed viciously in terrible understanding, as his radio links scrambled into static, his targeting systems went down... and all except a spherical area of space around the convoy vanished into blackness.

He had no way of communicating with either the ship or the other mobile suits. And now neither _Eternal_ nor_Kusanagi_ could even tell what was going on, if he understood the blackness as well as he thought he did.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Despite still not having the use of his eyes, Ken could easily tell that something had just gone very wrong. "What happened?" he demanded. "Why did we lose communications?" 

"I'm not sure," Flay responded, fingers flying over her console. "Some kind of interference-"

The ace snarled something vile under his breath, and pulled himself into CIC. He took a specially-configured earpiece from Sai's console and put it to his ear; no one else was exactly sure how it worked, but it evidently used audio signals to substitute for visual data. As far as anyone else could tell, it consisted only of strange harmonics, but Ken, having developed it during his engineer days, made sense of it with the ease of several weeks' practice.

Listening intently, he mentally berated himself for his complacency. "I screwed up," he muttered angrily. "Idiot, idiot, _idiot..."_

On the main monitor -one of the few systems that _wasn't_ scrambled- Murrue could see the Earth Forces warships coming around... and the cargo ships were beginning to behave oddly, as well. "Natarle, I need some information _now,_ please."

"Still analyzing the jamming," Natarle replied promptly, " but at least now we know what's odd about those cargo ships. They're Q-ships, Ma'am."

The Captain closed her eyes. _Q-ships. I should've known. When you start commerce raiding in earnest, the enemy's logical response is warships built to look like cargo vessels... and we fell for it._

"Weapons on local control only, Captain," Pal reported. "Targeting systems offline- Incoming fire!"

The ship rocked as a burst from _Kennedy_'s Gottfried's struck their port side, and Neumann hauled them around without waiting for orders.

Murrue nodded her approval. "Keep us moving, Arnold; whatever's going on here, the enemy doesn't seem affected by their own jamming. Romero, instruct the gunners to fire at their own discretion; I don't like it, but an integrated fire plan isn't going to work here. Try to concentrate your fire, but if you can't, fire anyway. We need to keep them busy."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"We're getting analysis of the jamming now, Captain," Sai called. "Those radar ghosts we detected earlier were apparently advanced electronic warfare devices; a sphere approximately ten kilometers in diameter has been cloaked by some kind of advanced Mirage Colloid, and the ships are broadcasting 'white noise' over the radio frequencies."

"What about targeting systems?" Ken queried, still listening to his own systems. "Jamming shouldn't affect that at all."

"Another variation of colloid technology, Falcon; particles spread throughout the battle area that, while not affecting the visual spectrum, deflect radar targeting, and attenuate lasers to the point of being unusable."

Natarle cursed. "And that cancels the idea of using laser communications to reestablish contact with our mobile suits."

Sai grimaced. "I'm afraid so, Ma'am."

Murrue glanced down at him. "Can we counter it?"

He shook his head. "Lieutenant Cateau might be able to, Ma'am, but I'm not familiar enough with late-generation Alliance ECM to attempt successful ECCM; whatever this is, you almost have to have specially-designed gear to counter it."

It felt like a ball of ice congealed in her stomach. "So all we can do is fire blind..."

Ken pulled off the earpiece, and returned to his position next to the command chair. "I'm sorry, Murrue," he said quietly.

Murrue shook her head. "It's not your fault, Ken. None of us expected this."

"Small comfort," he muttered.

She couldn't really disagree with him on that one.

* * *

Lagrange Point 1

* * *

_It's amazing,_ Mu reflected, _how fast a situation can go from under control to total disaster. If we make it out of this one, I'm going to strangle Falcon..._

Of course, that presupposed that they survived in the first place. The Earth Forces ships were launching mobile suits now, and it was obvious that _they_ were unaffected by the jamming. _Strike Daggers, 105 Daggers, and... Oh, wonderful; they've mass-produced the Buster. Just what I needed to make this day complete..._

Then he was among the enemy, and there was no more time to think. He'd brought the repaired Gunbarrel Striker for this mission, on the theory that it might be useful for precision strikes on the "cargo ships", but now it might be his salvation for another reason: unlike his rifle, the gunbarrels relied on his own sense of spatial awareness, not targeting systems.

Deploying the gunbarrels in a defensive spiral, Mu saw the Hyperion flash past, unleashing a burst from its submachine gun into a Strike Dagger. The target, pierced several times by green darts, erupted into fragments; but as it died, another machine swooped in and fired at Hyperion's left arm.

To Mu's surprise, the blast wasn't intercepted by the light-wave barrier; there was a brief flicker, but the emerald dart seemed to ignore it, getting through to melt a furrow in Hyperion's arm. The Dagger pilot's impetuousness cost him his life as the Buster came by, cleaving with its zweihander, but that didn't change the fact that something very wrong was going on.

_The jamming must be affecting Sophia's defenses,_ he thought grimly. _Hold on, Kestrel, I'm coming..._

He was not a moment too soon. Sophia, after another burst form her weapon missed, had evidently decided melee weapons were the way to go in that mess, and had a beam knife in either hand... but one arm was damaged, and two of the Buster Daggers had descended on her like sharks smelling blood. Rifles in both hands, missile pods opening to fire deadly salvos at the gaps in Hyperion's phase-shift that the beams would undoubtedly open, they were like piranha waiting for a feast... until the Strike swooped in on them.

Mu wasn't in time to stop Hyperion's head from being engulfed by a blast of emerald fire, but he didn't permit the mass-produced artillery machines to fire again. All four gunbarrels tracked one of them, spitting emerald death and shattering armor like it didn't exist, while he ignited a beam saber and slashed at the other in a crescent of crimson fury.

Both exploded, and he moved the Strike into physical contact with Hyperion. "Kestrel, can you hear me?" he called, gambling that communications might function at such close range.

There was a moment of silence, before a static-distorted voice came through. "Barely... Mu," Sophia replied at last. "Thanks... but I think I'm out of the fight."

"Looks like," Mu agreed grimly. "With no head, you can't even target visually. Are you injured?"

"No; but I'm going to make those bastards pay the next time we meet." The anger -and helplessness- in her voice came through quite clearly. "For now, make 'em understand we're not happy, will ya?"

He nodded. "You bet, Kestrel. Now, get out of here." Giving the Hyperion a push back toward the _Archangel,_ he turned, and dove toward the fight again.

* * *

In Preybird's cockpit, Alicia Cateau felt a mixture of helplessness and rage. _Dead Zone,_ she thought bitterly. _I always wondered what that was... now I get to find out the hard way. How lucky we are..._

Wishing absently that she was capable of using the DRAGOON system, she threw Preybird into a spiral, firing ineffectual shots from the Talon beam rifles. Ken, she felt sure, could've hit something even under these conditions; but she wasn't even a Coordinator, let alone the one called Der Schreckick Eins. She was a good pilot in her own right, but not good enough to handle this situation.

_I'd even use the satellite cannon if I could,_ she reflected, dodging a Buster Dagger's beam shots, _and hang the collateral damage. But a laser transmission beam won't penetrate that cursed cloaking field... If only the _Eternal _and _Kusanagi_ would hurry up and get here._

That the two ships were on their way, Cateau didn't doubt; they had to have noticed the sudden disappearance of the entire battle area, which would be quite an effective signal for help. Unless...

_Unless the Alliance sent something after them to keep them busy,_ she thought grimly. _Which would be entirely in keeping with the sort of trap Admiral Truman seems to have sprung on us. Which means we may be on our own after all; lovely thought._

Duel and Strike Rouge suddenly blazed past, swinging beam sabers and antiship swords; partners in indignation, Yzak and Cagalli were apparently determined to take as many of the enemy down with them as they could. Their piloting skills were keeping them alive so far, and wreaking havoc, but Cateau could tell they weren't unscathed; gashes were melted in both machines' armor, and the left shoulder piece of Duel's assault shroud had been blown away, taking his missile pod with it.

The Justice also went by, beam staff cleaving a Dagger in half... and then something on one of the Q-ships caught Cateau's eye. Some kind of cannon turning to track her... _Wait,_ she thought, all of her attention suddenly focused on the peculiar weapon, _that's-!_

It fired, catching Preybird in a blue discharge that left electricity crackling over its surface... and all its lights dark.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

_I don't think I've ever felt quite this useless before,_ Murrue thought, as _Archangel_ twisted in another sharp maneuver. In the time since the battle began -perhaps three minutes- the _Archangel_ had already lost three missile tubes and one engine, and in return had managed to vaporize only a single Q-ship and one of the _Nelsons._ _And all,_she thought, _because if we stop, we get shot, and if we keep moving, we can't hit anything..._

"Hyperion is returning, Captain," Mir said tersely. "Main cameras were lost, and Sophia couldn't continue combat."

Murrue nodded tensely. "Understood. Can we tell what the status of our remaining machines is?"

"In this situation?" Natarle shook her head. "It's hard enough to keep track of _us,_ with all this jamming going on. The other machine seem to still be in the fight, but-"

"Preybird is hit!" Sai interrupted. "Electromagnetic pulse confirmed; Preybird's main systems have been compromised!"

Ken spun toward him. "That's impossible. Preybird is shielded against EMP; even ZAFT's Gungnir weapons wouldn't affect it."

The blonde ECM specialist shrugged. "I think it was more focused than a Gungnir," he said, typing at his console. "It was a single, immensely strong burst of EMP; I don't think there's _anything_ with sufficient shielding to defend against that." He looked up. "The good news is, I don't think it can fire two consecutive shots."

"Small comfort," the ace grunted. "We've been in this battle less than five minutes, and it's already going against us. I haven't been in a disaster like this since Endymion."

"Hit confirmed!" Pal called out. "We've gotten a direct hit on one of the _Drakes,_ Captain!"

Murrue nodded sharply. "Excellent, Romero. Try and hit them again; the fewer enemies we have, the better chance we have of getting out of this alive."

"If we can," Sai offered, "I don't think they'll be able to pull this trick again. Given a little time, we can analyze the effect and develop countermeasures to compensate."

Natarle nodded. "He's right, Captain. We just have to hold out until we can evacuate the battle area."

"Presupposing we _can,"_ Murrue said darkly, seeing the Strike go by, three Daggers of assorted types chasing it. "Admiral Truman doesn't seem inclined toward mercy at this point."

Ken's sightless gaze glowered at the screen. "That doesn't surprise me. The Earth Forces, for all their faults, are-"

"Activity in the starboard catapult!" Mir said in surprise. "The Freedom is preparing to launch, Captain!"

Murrue looked at her in surprise. "The Freedom? But-"

Her right-hand intercom panel lit up. _"I may not like these raiding operations, Murrue,"_ Kira told her, face set, _"but that doesn't mean I'm about to let us all die. Besides..."_ He smiled slightly. _"If there were never any supply ships out there in the first place, then this isn't really a raid, now is it?"_

"I guess not," she conceded. "Thank you, Kira."

_"Don't act so surprised, will you? Like I said, I don't want _us_ to die anymore than I want the enemy to. This goes beyond my problems with Falcon's tactics."_ He visibly gripped his controls tighter. _"Freedom, launching!"_

As Freedom leapt from the catapult, Murrue sighed in relief. "That's the last time I forget that just because Kira isn't involved in a battle, it doesn't mean he's not here. Now I think we may just have a chance at this."

"Yes..." Ken agreed quietly; but he wasn't quite as sanguine about the whole thing. He'd taken note of something_else_ Kira had said... or rather, the way he'd said it. _I told him months ago he could use my name... If he's back to calling me "Falcon", I don't think it's a coincidence... or a good sign._

* * *

Lagrange Point 1

* * *

_It's amazing how much damage can be taken in a battle only a few minutes old,_ Mu thought, thrusting recklessly through a veritable hurricane of energy fire and CIWS bursts. He'd lost one of his gunbarrels already, and the targeting problems -which his enemy didn't share- were making it almost impossible to hit anything. 

Lack of communications wasn't helping, either. Under other circumstances, even with the targeting difficulties, proper coordination with the other pilots could well salvage the battle... but with the radio jamming, it was impossible to talk to anyone.

Duel and Strike Rouge seemed to be doing relatively well, under the circumstances; as near as Mu could tell, Yzak and Cagalli were communicating through ESP or something, but it worked. They'd taken the least damage of any of them, aside from Duel's lost missile pod. Even as he sped toward his own chosen target -a 105 Dagger- he could see Duel grab a Buster Dagger, and throw it into one of Strike Rouge's antiship swords.

As if to counter that victory, though, Buster literally blazed through his field of view, trailing fire from two of its thruster units. A 105 Dagger equipped with a Launcher Striker pack was chasing it, and Mu could see the Agni hyper-impulse cannon begin to glow-

A torrent of plasma fire literally melted the Agni's barrel off, while two hypervelocity railgun projectiles ripped into the Dagger's right arm and head, tearing them off and leaving bare wires sparking into the void. A black, blue, and white mobile suit flashed across space, and beams erupted from its guns.

ZGMF-X10A Freedom had arrived.

* * *

_Kennedy,_ Bridge

* * *

Truman clenched a fist, staring in mixed shock and rage at the newcomer. "The Freedom," he hissed. "I should've known that bastard would stick his nose in. But how is he _doing_ that?" 

The Freedom seemed to be completely ignoring the Dead Zone effect; plasma streams, laser beams, and railgun projectiles tore across space with inhuman precision, blasting guns, arms, heads, and even legs off Earth Forces mobile suits.

The admiral swallowed a curse when one of the shots almost casually blew the Shocker EMP cannon off the Q-ship carrying it. _And it was the only one of the things we had,_ he thought bitterly. _How can one mobile suit change the tide of battle this way?_

"It's not over yet, Admiral," Schwartz said quietly. "We can still get the _Archangel_ before we're forced to withdraw."

Truman took a deep, calming breath. "Yes. Yes, you're right, Jeff; thank you." He raised his voice. "All ships, target all remaining weapons on-"

A torrent of antimatter fury annihilated the rest of what he'd been about to say, as well as one of the remaining _Nelsons._

Schwartz sat bolt upright in his chair. "Lieutenant Sheffield!" he barked. "Where did that come from?"

The detection officer was typing commands so fast his fingers looked like a centipede on speed, and his eyes were wide with surprise. "I don't know, Sir; there seems to be another ship coming in, but-"

Through the curtain of the Dead Zone's cloak came the new ship, firing Lohengrin and Gottfrieds with almost wild abandon. Looking like a one-legged _Archangel,_ it swooped down upon the unsuspecting ships, targeting with precision unhampered by Dead Zone jamming. Beams licked out like the fiery sword of an avenging angel, and Q-ships shriveled like moths in a flame. The sheer unexpectedness of the attack ensured its success... and now the vessel swung toward the proper warships.

Truman cursed viciously. "The _Odin,"_ he whispered, enraged. "So she _is_ rogue. But who-?"

A moment later, his question was answered, for the main monitor lit up with a visual transmission from the attacking vessel. _"Hello, Castor,"_ the admiral on the screen said pleasantly. _"It's been awhile."_

All over the Bridge, jaws dropped, and Truman shot to his feet in sheer shock. "Impossible," he breathed. _"Impossible!_ You-!"

_"Died?"_ The other admiral smiled. _"Sorry, Castor; I know it must be a terrible disappointment. Unfortunately, I had things that still needed to be taken care of."_

"You're actually siding with the _Archangel,"_ Truman said hoarsely. "You _bastard-"_

_"You always were an idiot, Castor; if it took you this long to figure out our intentions, that merely reconfirms my belief."_ The admiral smiled again. _"Goodbye, Castor. I'd say that we'll meet again someday, except that I think that's rather unlikely."_

The _Odin_ filled the viewports, and her weapons began to glow...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

There was utter silence on the Bridge for several moments. The past ten minutes had been a roller coaster, emotionally; first, confidence in the routine nature of the mission, then surprise and consternation at the revelation of the trap, worry and fear when the odds became clear... and now numbing relief. First Kira's entry into the battle effectively ended the mobile suit threat... and then something else had arrived. 

"I give up," Sophia said faintly, having arrived on the Bridge only moments before. "What in the world just happened? Who...?"

"I recognize the ship," Murrue said, almost mechanically, "or at least the class. That's one of the _Odin_-class escort ships intended to serve with the _Archangel;_ from the looks of her, I'd say she's the _Odin_ herself."

Natarle nodded. "That's right; they were constructing her one berth over from the _Archangel,_ weren't they? Back at Heliopolis, I mean."

Ken turned his head. "There was more to the project than what I hacked out of the database? I only knew of the _Archangel_ and the G-weapons."

"The class was originally intended as a cheaper version of the _Archangel,"_ Murrue informed him, still staring out the viewports, "but in the end, the Powers That Be apparently decided she'd do better as an escort for the _Archangel_ herself. I just never realized the ship got away from Heliopolis..."

"We're receiving a transmission from the ship, Captain," Flay said, sounding just as stunned. "She identifies herself as the _Odin,_ and the captain would like to speak with you."

Murrue nodded jerkily. "By all means, Flay, let's see who we're dealing with."

A moment later, a blonde-haired, gray-eyed man in his mid-twenties appeared on the main screen. He wore the uniform of a lieutenant, but the fact that he was occupying the _Odin_'s command chair indicated the vessel's chain of command had broken down over the months since Heliopolis.

_"Greetings, _Archangel," the man began. _"This is the Escort Ship _Odin;_ I hope our arrival, while doubtless unexpected, was not... unwelcome."_

"No, not at all," Murrue assured him. "Ahem; I'm Captain Murrue Ramius, commanding the True ZAFT Ship _Archangel._ You would be...?"

_"Oh, sorry."_ The lieutenant smiled. _"I'm Lieutenant Senior Grade-"_

"Jason Chance," Natarle said in disbelief, coming out of CIC.

Chance looked at her, and his own eyebrows elevated. _"Natarle Badgiruel? Good to see you're still alive; but I didn't know you were with the _Archangel."

"Fair's fair," she said faintly. "I didn't know _you_ were assigned to the _Odin."_

Murrue looked at her curiously. "You know the man, Natarle?"

Natarle nodded. "Yes, Cap- Murrue. Jason and I went to the Academy together, a few years ago; we graduated in the same class."

_"And haven't seen each other since,"_ Chance confirmed. _"I'll, ah, want to talk to you some more later, Natarle. But right now, I believe the Admiral would like a word with your captain... and with Commander DiFalco, assuming he's still alive."_

"Right here," Ken said, head cocked. "'The Admiral'?"

The camera's focus shifted... and Murrue inhaled in shock. _It... it can't be...!_

Ken heard her gasp, but -lacking sight- didn't understand what had her so surprised... until the man finally spoke.

_"It's good to see you two again,"_ he began. _"I realize my appearance must be something of a surprise, but, as a certain pilot once said, there is only one ultimate rule in war."_ Rear Admiral Lewis Halberton smiled. _"Survive."_

* * *

Author's note: The Battle of Mendel is over, and True ZAFT's Shiva Option has truly begun. Battles have been won, and progress made; and though their first defeat was nearly at hand, victory was snatched from the jaws of defeat by one pilot overcoming his distaste for the Grimaldi Falcon's methods... and the unexpected return of a man thought dead. How did Lewis Halberton survive, and what has he been doing in the months since the destruction of the _Menelaos?_

Yes, I'm well aware this chapter is late; but, as you can probably tell, that's more because of its sheer length than anything else. This is one that I've been looking forward to for awhile now, but it turned out there was a lot more to cram into than I thought. In any case, I trust the length -and the twist- at least partially make up for the delay.

I don't see much else to say at this point; my next update may be slightly late as well -I'm going to be switching computers soon, which may cause some chaos with my schedule- but it shouldn't be too much of a delay. In the meantime, let me know how this one was. -Solid Shark


	41. Chapter 41: The Ticking Clock

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

I also do not own the _Odin;_ it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar, August 7th, C.E. 71

* * *

It was a stunned and shell-shocked crew that gathered in the hangar to await the launch from the _Odin._ The battle that had concluded not an hour before had wound them all tight as springs, and the subsequent arrival of the new vessel -which had proceeded to blast the Earth Alliance forces into dust bunnies and atomized hydrogen- had left them feeling very off-balance.

The revelation of who was in _charge_ of the rescue had stunned the entire crew.

Now all but a skeleton watch on the Bridge and in the engine room flocked to the hangar, led by Murrue Ramius and Ken DiFalco, the latter literally being led by the hand by the former lest he run into anything along the way. He could usually navigate well enough... but there _had_ been accidents.

For his part, the ace's head was spinning. First his plan had gone awry -an occasion so unusual as to cause some disorientation when it occurred- and then an old friend and sometime comrade he'd thought dead for months had turned up alive. _It's enough to drive a man to drink,_ he thought to himself, as they came to a halt. _Only problem is, I can't get drunk... even if the doc would let me try._ Given the status of his recovery, it was unlikely Doctor Hibson would allow anything of the sort.

As the _Odin_'s launch came close, Ken noticed Kira joining the group; he still wore his flightsuit, and had apparently come straight from the Freedom's cockpit. The ace looked at him for a moment, then raised his hand in salute.

Kira saw it, blinked, and returned the salute; and that was all that was exchanged between them.

_That's not a good sign,_ Murrue thought, noting the byplay. _Kira helped save us back there, and all Ken will do is give him a salute... and neither one will say a word. This must be worse than I'd thought..._

By now, the launch had come to a rest, and the hatch swiftly opened. Within, taking the first step toward the deck, stood Rear Admiral Lewis Halberton, Earth Alliance Forces Eighth Fleet... though if the shoulder patch was any indication, it would be more accurate to say _late_ of the Earth Alliance Forces.

Where once had been the patch of the Earth Alliance, there was now an armored warrior on a six-legged horse, with a wicked-looking sword; and beneath the image read the name _Odin._

"It's good to see you all again," Halberton said warmly, stepping down to the deck. "It's been nearly six months since then, and a lot of things have changed..."

Murrue stepped forward, saluting crisply. "It's a tremendous pleasure to see you again, Sir," she said, voice cracking. "I... we all thought you were dead, Sir."

"He nearly was," Acting-Captain Jason Chance said wryly, following the admiral out of the shuttle. "But that's a tale for later. It's an honor to finally set foot on the _Archangel,_ Captain Ramius; the Admiral's told us a lot about her and her crew, but we've never been sure how much of it is just tall tales."

"Very little, Captain Chance," Ken informed him, allowing a trace of pride into his voice. "You'll find no finer crew in space... and certainly none this fine in the Earth Forces."

Chance looked mildly offended, but Halberton simply laughed. "Don't mind him, Jason. In the first place, he's probably right; and in the second, this man has every right to be a tad arrogant. He took Nova away from us last year, and if it weren't for the Cyclops at Endymion, he very probably would've taken control of the Moon away from us, too." He stepped forward, and clasped Ken's hand. "It's good to see you, old friend."

"I wish I could say the same," the ace said wryly, "but the Doc tells me it'll be another week yet before I can see anything at all."

Halberton nodded gravely. "So I see. I'll want to hear all about it; and I'm sure your crew will want to hear all about how I'm not dead. But first, Captain Ramius, shall we adjourn to your office? I believe we have much to discuss."

Murrue nodded. "Yes, Admiral, I'm sure we do." She paused. "By the way, Sir, do you have any idea what happened to our other ships? _Eternal_ and _Kusanagi_ should've been heading in as soon as they saw something was wrong..."

"They had a little trouble with a pair of cloaked _Agamemnons,"_ the Admiral explained. "Said problems ceased as soon as we got involved; it seems they weren't expecting us any more than Castor Truman was... and they _really _weren't expecting our own ace to turn up when he did. There are so few people who can use wired gunbarrels that the appearance of a 105 Dagger with a Gunbarrel pack caught them by surprise."

Mu spoke up for the first time, from just behind Murrue. "If I remember right, the only other ace with that kind of spatial awareness in the Earth Forces was Morgan Chevalier; don't tell me you've got the Moonlight Mad Dog with you."

Halberton smiled. "We do indeed, Commander. And I think it's now time to tell our long story; I think you'll find it quite interesting."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Captain's Office

* * *

With Neumann and Cateau holding the fort on the Bridge, Murrue, Natarle, and Ken gathered in Murrue's office with Halberton and Chance; they'd decided a small group would be best for the initial explanations, and others could be brought in on it later.

"You know," Halberton began, once they'd all found seats -several of them moved in for the occasion- "it took us a couple of months to determine whether or not you people were still alive in the first place. Alaska had been reported as a total loss, and none of the transmissions we intercepted during the Orb battles shed definitive light on the subject. It wasn't until we discovered that the entire Second Fleet was being sent to Mendel that we began to realize there was something big going on."

Chance nodded in agreement. "At first, we thought there were ZAFT forces holed up at L4, planning an ambush. Then we heard Muruta Azrael was heading there personally, and the Admiral here figured out that Commander DiFalco might be up to something."

"Only you could inspire that kind of wrath in the Earth Forces," the Admiral explained. "They've never quite forgiven you for the damage you did last year."

Ken nodded ruefully. "Yes, I found that out myself, at Alaska; it appears one of the primary objectives there was to use my own plan -Operation Spit Break- to get me killed. Unfortunately, hell had no vacancies."

Halberton looked at Murrue and raised an eyebrow. "That's interesting," he remarked. "He's actually starting to sound like a human being again. How did you pull that one off, Captain? Usually, when Falcon sets his mind to something it takes a giant explosion to change his course."

She smiled sheepishly. "As near as we can tell, we've just been having a bad influence on him, Sir."

Natarle cleared her throat. "Ah, excuse me, Admiral, but... how exactly _did_ you survive? And why is the _Odin _acting on her own?"

Halberton glanced at his flag captain. "You want to get the ball rolling, Jason?"

Chance nodded. "Sure, Admiral. Natarle, this is something of a long story, so let me start at the beginning." He leaned back in his chair, looking like a man about to deliver a speech he'd rehearsed for months... which he probably had. "All right. You know, of course, that Captain Callahan and Commander DuMont were both with Captain Mornay when the attack happened, right?"

Natarle nodded. "Yes, I remember seeing them there just before Captain Mornay sent Arnold and me to find Murrue. I hadn't known for sure they were still there when the explosion went off, but I'm not surprised."

Ken lifted an eyebrow. "Captain Mornay?"

"He was the _Archangel_'s original captain," Murrue explained. "What, you mean you didn't hack the ship's crew roster when you stole the G-weapon data?"

"If I had, I would've known you and Sophia were assigned to her," he pointed out.

Chance cleared his throat. "To continue," he said pointedly, "when the Le Creuset team attacked, they started by trying to blow up the _Archangel._ The attempt failed, of course, but it did kill most of the _Archangel_'s original complement of officers, as well as our captain and first officer. After that, the chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Devereaux, attempted to get the _Odin_ moving and out of range of the attack. Unfortunately, the explosions in _Archangel_'s harbor triggered a secondary detonation in ours, resulting in a hull breech and shrapnel in the engine room, killing the commander and wounding his assistant; that left us without a senior line officer to take over, so our wing commander, Lieutenant Commander Wachowski, ordered _me_ to take the conn and get the ship clear, while he launched in one of our Moebius units."

"I think Mu knew Wachowski," Murrue said, frowning. "A hot hand in a mobile armor, from what he said; one of the few good enough to take down a GINN all by himself with just a Moebius."

Chance nodded. "Unfortunately, Commander Wachowski wasn't quite good enough to fly his machine out of a debris-filled harbor; one of his engines sucked in a chunk of our hull, and he... never had a chance to eject."

"Which left a mere senior-grade lieutenant in charge of the ship," Halberton put it. "A situation I believe you're familiar with, Captain Ramius."

Murrue smiled. "Yes, Admiral, I believe I am."

Now Natarle leaned forward, a puzzled frown on her face. "But why didn't you make contact with HQ, Jason? Or even the _Archangel?_ I mean, yes, there's plenty of reason _now_ to stay away from the Earth Forces, but back at Heliopolis..."

Chance shrugged. "Fact is, Natarle, our radio gear was damaged by the same explosion that killed Commander Devereaux. We couldn't signal anyone until we got it repaired, and we couldn't even find the _Archangel;_ your efforts might not have fooled Le Creuset, but they left _us_ completely clueless." His jaw tightened. "It turned out to be just as well; by the time we got communications back, you were nowhere to be found, so we headed straight for Ptolemaeus... which would've taken us a good three weeks.

"Then we turned up the files Captain Callahan had left behind."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "What kind of files?"

_Odin_'s captain had a positively grim expression on his face. "It seems the Captain was leading a double life, Captain Ramius. According to private files we found in his personal database, he was actually a member of Blue Cosmos... and the files also provided the names of several other moles in the military and the government, including Admirals Hamilton, Truman, and Kreitzman... and Atlantic Federation Vice Foreign Minister George Allster."

Ken nodded, unsurprised. "Yes, I rather thought so; but I must confess that I wouldn't have expected that to be enough to get you to desert. Even Natarle here had begun to notice the anti-Coordinator bias that was slipping into the military. Blue Cosmos involvement couldn't have been that much of a surprise."

"It wasn't," Chance admitted. "None of us liked to think about that, but it wasn't really a shock to learn they were infiltrating the military. However," he went on, his voice suddenly hard, "there was something else in those files: the exact nature of the attack on Copernicus last year, the one that killed off the United Nations' leadership... the one that Earth used as justification for this war."

The ace nodded in what Murrue thought was probably savage satisfaction, and she didn't blame him. _He's always maintained that it was Earth that arranged that; he must be delighted that there's finally proof of it..._ "So," she said aloud, "what did you do then, Captain?"

"We went AWOL," Chance said simply. "Near as we could tell later, Blue Cosmos had only stuck the one agent on the ship -Captain Callahan- and the rest were all decent folks who couldn't stand the thought of fighting a war based on lies. Now, don't get me wrong, Commander DiFalco; a few of my people weren't any fonder of Coordinators than Blue Cosmos is. But even they, prejudiced though they might be, didn't like the thought of blowing people up over a trumped-up issue."

Ken tilted his head. "And how do they feel now?"

The older man shrugged. "Now? Well, let's just say they've gotten a new appreciation for how little a person's genes really matter. There've been atrocities on both sides, but the Cyclops at Alaska and the nuclear attack on Orb convinced even the diehards that the Naturals were being the real barbarians." He shrugged again. "Anyway, after finding Callahan's files, we changed course immediately... and, incidentally, mirrored your own for awhile. We first hit the remains of Artemis, and scavenged what supplies we could; then we headed off for the Debris Belt, and set up a cache in an old wrecked Island-Three colony, like Heliopolis. And then... then we noticed the ZAFT ships that were chasing you to the Eighth Fleet rendezvous."

"And that's where my part of the story comes in," Halberton interjected. "You remember, of course, that _Laurasia _that was bearing down on us."

Murrue nodded. "Yes, the _Gamow._ I remember the incident quite well, Admiral. And, as I recall, the _Menelaos _succeeded in destroying her."

"Yes," he concurred. "But only at the cost of falling too deep into Earth's gravity well to escape, which resulted in atmospheric friction tearing the ship apart." Pain flickered across his face, as he remembered his dead. "The _Archangel_ was obviously in no position to notice, but Captain Hoffman -may he rest in peace- managed to shove me into a lifepod at the last moment, and ejected me into the atmosphere. Fortunately, unlike the ship herself the lifepod was designed to accomplish the feat without being incinerated."

"That's where we came in," Chance said, picking up the story. "We picked up the lifepod's transponder, and realized that only an admiral could've been aboard it; which meant it had to be Admiral Halberton, under the circumstances. Now, we were wandering pretty aimlessly at that point, with no clear goal in mind, so I ordered Ensign Lipinski, our helmsman, to take us into the atmosphere, too. We managed to catch up with the lifepod in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and we retrieved it before it could sink."

"When they brought me aboard, I was barely conscious," Halberton said, nodding. "Things had gotten a little warm during reentry, and the impact with the water didn't help. When I was back on my feet, though, Captain Chance here showed me the files Callahan had left. As soon as I saw those..." He shook his head. "Well, I'd known better than you people that Blue Cosmos was becoming more and more popular within the military, but I'd never suspected just how deep their claws had begun to reach. When I came face to face with the truth, my first reaction was to go see Sutherland and the others at Alaska personally; but then I realized that if I tried confronting them with what I knew, I probably wouldn't last very long."

"That's when we started making our plans," Chance concurred. "The Admiral, naturally, took over the operation, and he promoted me to captain; though the exact legality of that promotion we're none too sure of."

"Nor does it matter," the Admiral said firmly, with the air of a man engrossed in an argument that had been repeated many times. "You're the man in charge of the _Odin,_ and that makes you her captain, Jason."

Chance tossed his head in resigned irritation. "Whatever. Anyway, once that was decided, we started keeping tabs on the _Archangel._ Through communications intercepts -we have a _very_ good cryptographer aboard- we learned you had touched down in ZAFT-controlled territory in Africa; we tracked your progress from there to the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, where you had your run-in with Marco Morassim. That was also when we began to suspect the Commander here was up to something, given the mysterious detonation of Morassim's ship."

"Always knew you had a scheme in mind, Falcon," Halberton said sagely. "I just wasn't sure what it was."

"But why were you following the _Archangel_ so intently?" Natarle wondered. "If you were in opposition to the Earth Forces by then..."

"The answer's simple enough, Lieutenant," he replied. "You remember when the _Archangel_ rendezvoused with the Eighth Fleet, and I commissioned Falcon in the Earth Forces, I said that he probably had an agenda of his own, and he concurred. As soon as Jason showed me Callahan's records, I had the distinct feeling that Falcon's primary reason for joining the Earth Forces in the first place was to eventually get your entire ship to leave the Alliance."

"You were right," Murrue told him. "And we're grateful, I must say."

Halberton raised an eyebrow minutely, seeing the fond look his student gave the scarred pilot. _Well, well,_ he thought to himself. _I'll bet you were, Captain; but I daresay it wasn't just his logic that convinced you to side with him. I wonder, though, whether you've even admitted it to yourself..._

"I see," he said aloud, allowing no trace of his thoughts into his voice. "In any case, I felt it was only a matter of time before you left the Earth Forces for good; and when Alaska happened, I had a shrewd idea it was time... and that was when _we_ began our operations."

Chance nodded. "As soon as news broke about the Cyclops, the Admiral ordered us back into space. Fortunately, _Odin_'s smaller than _Archangel;_ we were able to get back into space just using the positronic interference effect. And once there, we started harassing both sides."

"We had one advantage that True ZAFT didn't," Halberton remarked. "Whereas they knew all along the _Archangel_ was out here somewhere, no one had any idea the _Odin_ had even survived Heliopolis. Oh, there were rumors, of course, but nothing solid; all the rumors did was add to the confusion, and make our job easier."

"And at the same time, we kept track of the _Archangel._ It wasn't too difficult," Chance added with a thin smile. "The nuclear attack on Orb was something of a dead giveaway, for example; I wasn't so sure of it myself, but the Admiral maintained that only the Grimaldi Falcon could've stirred up a hornet's nest that nasty in a situation where the Earth Forces were trying to take the local facilities intact."

Murrue nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I can see that. But how did you obtain so much information about the Earth Forces' operations? Surely you couldn't have gotten it all through radio intercepts."

"That's true," Halberton agreed. "But it seems Jason here had a friend in Atlantic Federation Intelligence, who was able to keep us up-to-date on the gossip at Headquarters."

At that, Chance shot a nervous glance at Natarle, and coughed. "Old girlfriend," he explained uncomfortably. "She, ah, was happy to help when she heard who was commanding _Odin."_

"I'm sure," Natarle muttered; which led Murrue to think that she and Chance had, at one point, been more than merely friends at the Academy. "I suppose that's also how you were able to ignore the 'Dead Zone' effect Truman spoke of?"

"Exactly," Halberton confirmed. "Unfortunately, we lost contact with her shortly after receiving the required data," he went on somberly. "We... think Blue Cosmos purged her. I doubt they were on to her, though; more likely they were just ridding themselves of 'unreliable' elements."

"Another crime they have to pay for," Chance said in a quiet, dangerous voice. "I served the Atlantic Federation with pride and loyalty once upon a time, but the war burned all that out of me."

"I know how you feel, Captain," Ken told him solemnly. "Believe me, I do." He looked back at Halberton. "So, Lewis, you said Mendel was when you first started to realize something big was going on. What exactly clued you in?"

The admiral smiled. "Come now, Falcon. I knew already that you, personally, were almost certainly still alive -the mysterious Preybird was very clearly your style- but the real clincher was when not one, not two, but _five_ ships turned up on the defensive side. _Archangel_ and _Kusanagi_ were known factors, but a second _Archangel_-class and the two unknown ships told us you really _did_ have some kind of grand scheme in mind. You don't put together that much firepower for nothing."

The ace nodded slowly. "You're right, Lewis." He glanced at Murrue, received a nod, and turned back to the admiral. "You're quite right, in fact. Let me introduce you to the Shiva Option."

* * *

_Eternal,_ Hangar, August 8th, C.E. 71

* * *

Athrun wasn't surprised to find Lacus waiting for him when he climbed out of the Justice. He'd meant to make the trip the day before, after the battle, but he'd gotten tied up helping to repair the damage _Archangel_ had suffered before _Odin_'s timely arrival.

"I'm glad you're safe, Athrun," she said, throwing her arms around him. "When you all vanished yesterday, and we didn't know what was going on, I was so worried..."

"I was fine, Lacus," Athrun said, returning the embrace. "Nothing we couldn't handle; though it might've gotten hairy if Kira hadn't launched when he did." He looked away. "I'm just sorry I wasn't able to help when _you_ came under attack."

"It wasn't too bad," Lacus assured him. "There _were_ three of them, all _Agamemnon_-class, but the _Odin_ arrived just after the battle began, and destroyed them. I was just worried about _you."_

"It _did_ get a little hectic out there," he conceded. "On the other hand, maybe we needed the reality check; ever since Orb we've been practically walking right over the opposition, and I think that's made us feel just a little too invincible..."

She tilted her head. "And given us too much faith in Commander DiFalco's abilities?" she said shrewdly.

"Something like that," he admitted. "He's warned us time and again that he's not infallible; and intellectually, we knew that. GENESIS is proof enough of it. But even Kira's never actually _seen_ it, except for times when he's nearly gotten _himself_ killed. This was the first time his mistake was nearly a disaster for us all, you know."

"And you're beginning to lose confidence in him," Lacus murmured, nodding to herself. "Have you talked to Kira about it?"

He nodded uncomfortably. "Yes, I have; and that's one reason the Commander's starting to make me nervous. You know Kira's never been happy with this 'Shiva Option'. Not only does it involve getting a lot of people killed, but it's also risky... as we found out yesterday."

"I believe Commander DiFalco would say that in battle, victory cannot be gained without risk," she pointed out. "And there is also the point that, while this may be a desperate strategy, it's because we _are_ desperate. We may well be the only people who can stop this war from resulting in mutual genocide, but we only have five -now six- ships; hardly enough to meet either side on their own terms, let alone both. If we are to bring peace, our only choice is to force ZAFT and the Earth Forces to fight on _our_ terms."

Athrun sighed. "I guess you're right. But... I don't think we can convince Kira of that, and quite frankly, that scares me more than the risks this plan involves. Those two don't understand each other any more, and with the strength of their convictions... I just don't like to think where that might lead."

"I know," Lacus said softly. "And I also feel they would be more effective if they worked together; their skills are formidable apart, and together I suspect they would be almost unstoppable. But," she went on, more brightly, "that's not something we should be worrying about right now. Now I just want to relax for awhile, and talk about something other than battle."

She began tugging him toward the hangar's exit, and he reflected that perhaps it _was_ time to forget the fighting, if only for a little while.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Once again wearing a gray trench coat over his red uniform, as he'd done in times long past, the Grimaldi Falcon floated before his personal machine, looking it over through a pair of goggles. He'd resisted using the things, preferring to wait until his eyes regenerated, but Murdoch had pointed out he was the only person completely familiar with Preybird's structure. If his mechanics had missed anything, Ken would be the person most likely to find it.

"An impressive piece of machinery, Falcon," Lewis Halberton called quietly, entering the hangar from a side hatch. "Scary, too."

"That was kind of the idea, Lewis," the ace told him, running a hand over the dormant machine's armor. "A Gray Demon personified... an instrument of selective death on the battlefield, built for one ultimate purpose: survive past any opposition to reach GENESIS, and destroy it from the inside."

"Looks like it would do a fine job of it, too," the admiral commented. "Sparky showed me the report the Zala team made of their first encounter with Preybird, and I must say I was impressed. To think that, even in its incomplete form, it successfully took down all four stolen G-weapons in under thirty seconds... It's no wonder the Earth Forces tried to use nuclear weapons on it at Orb."

"They nearly succeeded," Ken admitted. "They suckered me in, then my own blind rage at the presence of nukes did the rest. If it weren't for Kira, I'd have died that day..."

"Yet even there, Preybird didn't fight at its full potential," Halberton murmured. "Why not?"

The pilot froze, and turned slowly in the air. "How did you know that?" he asked, expression unreadable behind the goggles.

The admiral shrugged. "Wasn't that hard to figure out, Falcon, though I doubt anyone outside your old team realizes it. Tom, you see, told me about the special motor control system Preybird uses; the artificial muscle tissue, and the synthetic nerve fibers. An ingenious concept... but one that left me feeling that something wasn't quite right. So, I went back over the battle records _Archangel_ has of Preybird's actions, and I happened to notice that its performance, while admittedly phenomenal, wasn't quite up to what it ought to be capable of."

Ken was silent for a long moment. "You're right," he said finally. "And there's a good reason for it. You see, one of the areas in which I surpass Kira and Cagalli is in G-tolerance; I can pull some maneuvers that would cause even them to black out, though whether that's the result of genetic engineering or the vagaries of nature, I don't know. In any case, in the past I've managed to cause two mobile suits to literally fall apart around me. My reaction time leaves the machine in the dust, and eventually that tears it apart; that's what happened to my GINN at the Bloody Valentine, and Raptor in the Marshall Islands."

Halberton's eyes narrowed. "I thought Preybird's motor system was supposed to prevent that."

The ace shook his head. "It's only as good as the computer running it, Lewis. Preybird would certainly last longer than anything else, in that situation, but eventually it _would_ come apart at the seams. So... Preybird has limiters on its performance. They keep it from going beyond a certain point... thus saving the machine's true performance for one last effort."

"Jachin," Halberton stated. "You're expecting this final battle of yours to take place at Jachin Due, and Preybird's full capabilities are being saved for the run on GENESIS, am I right?"

Ken nodded. "Exactly. I can only risk it once; Preybird is theoretically capable of maneuvers that would make even _my_ head spin, but doing so will create awesome stress on the frame. That'll be worth it, though... if it gets me into the core of GENESIS."

"You're expecting to die there," the admiral murmured. "Aren't you."

"The possibility exists," the ace said quietly. "And it's hardly the least likely outcome. But if my life is the price to be paid for my sin, then so be it."

Halberton slowly shook his head. "I'm guessing you haven't told anyone that."

"No. It might change Kira's opinion of my actions, but Dearka would make sarcastic remarks until I relented, Cagalli would beat me to a pulp, and Murrue... Murrue would pitch a fit, and possibly try to pull rank on me."

"It's because she cares about you," the admiral said quietly. "You know that, don't you?"

Ken nodded. "It hasn't escaped my notice, Lewis. But I lost more than just a home in the Bloody Valentine Tragedy; I lost someone I cared for very deeply, and since then, I've preferred to remain dedicated solely to my mission. One day, the law of averages will catch up with me, too, and I prefer not to leave loose ends behind."

"Maybe you really _have_ forgotten what it's like to be human," Halberton mused. "That's not an attitude that your comrades would approve of; it comes too close to fatalism. Almost as if you think it's your destiny to die in this war."

"Wrong," the ace replied. "I don't believe in destiny, or Fate. Man blazes his own path through the universe, down the river of time; free will is what drives us, not some predetermined set of factors. No, Lewis, I just don't want to drag anyone else down with me. Besides, I entered this war with the intention of protecting the PLANTs, and that's exactly what I'm going to do, even if it costs me my life."

"Despite the fact that you could still save yourself," the admiral murmured. "There _is_ another target, you know, if I understand GENESIS right. One with considerably less risk to yourself."

"You're talking about Jachin Due itself." It wasn't a question. "The place where GENESIS is from controlled from; the nerve center of the defense of the PLANTs, and very probably where Patrick will be when it all goes down. A tough not to crack, but a more easily obtainable goal than making it to the interior of GENESIS."

Halberton nodded. "Exactly. So... why haven't you spoken of the possibility to your comrades?"

Ken sighed. "Lewis... how on earth could I tell Athrun Zala that the safest way to end this war is to assassinate his father?"

Halberton's eyebrows went up in understanding. "I see... So you'd rather sacrifice your life than force that grim reality on your comrade. Admirable indeed, old friend... if not exactly conducive to self-preservation."

"I stopped worrying about self-preservation the day _she_ died at Junius Seven," the ace said calmly. "If I survive this war, fine; I'll be adrift, but I can find a new path once the mission is complete. But if I don't... Better that I die atoning for my sin than others pay for my mistakes."

"You've changed, Falcon," his old friend murmured. "That's not the attitude I remember from the blockade. Do you remember what you said then? 'There is only one ultimate rule in war: survive'. You were all fired up to protect the PLANTs..."

"I haven't changed, Lewis," Ken told him quietly. "The situation has. That was before the Bloody Valentine, before Endymion... before GENESIS. I've given my life for my country before; I'll do it again if I have to. The responsibility is mine, and no one else's."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria

* * *

Alicia Cateau knew who was entering the cafeteria long before he came into her line of sight; she recognized the smell of his brand of cigar.

She sat alone at one of the tables; though she was on good terms with most of the _Archangel_'s crew, most of them were helping repair the damage from the previous day's battle... and she didn't feel like risking a meeting with any of the _Odin'_s original crew. _Archangel_ and the rest of True ZAFT had accepted her on the basis of Ken's word that he trusted her, but she had a feeling the new arrivals wouldn't.

_On the other hand, I know this man personally..._

"Been a long time, Morgan," Alicia said, just as Chevalier came around to the opposite side of the table. "Never thought I'd run into _you_ out here."

"Feeling's mutual, Alley," he said easily. "This seat taken?"

"Be my guest, Morgan; or do you prefer Mad Dog these days?" She shrugged. "Anyway, I could use the company; everyone else is busy. I would be, too, but I haven't been with the ship long enough to be of any use in damage control."

"So I hear," Chevalier remarked, sitting. "And Morgan's fine; 'Moonlight Mad Dog' is something of an ironic name." He puffed on his cigar for a moment. "You know, I was pretty surprised to hear you'd fallen in with the _Archangel;_ last I heard, you were with one of that crazy bastard Azrael's special projects."

Alicia grimaced. "I was; and I have an unpleasant feeling that scum was planning on using me as the next biological CPU. Fortunately, he never had the chance. Commander DiFalco shot me down in Orb, and set me free from the Earth Forces at last." She lifted an eyebrow. "I was surprised to hear _you_ were with the _Odin;_ last I remember, you were training up to be one of the Alliance's first mobile suit pilots." She smiled slightly. "And that you'd earned the nickname Moonlight Mad Dog, of course."

He waved his cigar. "That was before Orb, my dear; before they used nuclear weapons in an act of pure vengeance against an enemy they had already effectively defeated through conventional means. I was at Ptolemaeus at the time, helping train up a batch of 105 Dagger pilots -I'm pretty sure they were the boys you ran into at Mendel- and I wasn't too happy. That sounded even worse than the thinking that ended with you launching that nuke at Junius Seven, so I bailed. Took my 105 Dagger, a Gunbarrel pack, and some extra supplies, and split." He chuckled. "Not my smartest move, in hindsight; if things hadn't gone the way they did, I'd have died out in space somewhere, accomplishing absolutely nothing in the process."

"But you didn't die," she observed. "Let me guess: you ran into the _Odin_ your second day out, and the Admiral recruited you."

"Pretty much," Chevalier confirmed. "That was about when I learned that your Commander DiFalco was stirring up trouble all over the world and the colonies, too; figured we'd run into you guys sooner or later." Sticking the cigar between his teeth again, he leaned forward. "So tell me something, Alley," he said seriously. "Do you think DiFalco actually has any chance of pulling off his crazy scheme?"

"I don't know," Alicia said simply. "Captain Ramius and the others have been with him since Heliopolis, and _they're_ confident there's at least a possibility of success. Me..." She shrugged. "Let's just say I wouldn't bet against it. I was at the Bloody Valentine, Morgan; I launched the weapon that ended his past. Most of the rest of that battle I saw from an ejection seat, but what I did see scared me. You don't _ever_ want to get him angry enough to go Berserker, Morgan; he has spatial awareness on the same level you do, with snake-quick reflexes and G-tolerances beyond Coordinator norm. He pulled maneuvers in that battle that his GINN literally couldn't take, and a few months ago he even made a _G-weapon_ fall apart. He's one of the best pilots I ever saw, and as for his planning, well... I was at Nova, too, and it wasn't a pleasant experience."

He grinned around his cigar. "Sounds like you like the guy, Alley."

"Not in the way you're suggesting, Morgan," she told him, leaning back. "For one thing, nobody mentions romance around him and gets away with a whole hide, and for another... Well, it's not generally a good idea to poach on Captain Ramius' territory."

Chevalier's grin became a smirk. "Yeah, I heard talk about that; seems _Archangel_'s mechanics have a pool going on about that one."

Alicia nodded. "I know; I'm in for twenty myself."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

Ken had returned to his quarters for more much-needed rest, and now Lewis C. Halberton stood on the deck, looking up at the ZGMF-X00A Preybird. _A truly impressive piece of machinery,_ he thought to himself. _Designed by an equally impressive young man... It's the youthful sense of immortality that keeps wars going, yet this time it's one young man's willingness to die for his cause that's changed the course of this war. Well,_ he amended mentally, _that, and another youth who's determined to save the world... When was it that the fate of the human race fell into the hands of kids? How can they stand up under the burden they've knowingly taken upon themselves?_ He shook his head. _Was I ever that young? If I was, I know I never had the self-confidence these boys have..._

The admiral glanced up, hearing on the upper side hatches sliding open. Through it stepped Kira Yamato, dressed in ZAFT red with the coat open, a short, curved sword at his side. A peculiar expression on his face, he drifted over to the Freedom, and looked into the darkened yellow eyes, as though trying to read the machine's mind.

Halberton watched the young pilot curiously. This was remarkably similar to their first meeting, months before, when he'd found Kira in front of the Strike, looking back on the weeks of flight from Heliopolis. Then the young man had looked exhausted, tired from the fighting and the tension, and obviously looking forward to returning to a peaceful life away from the war.

In truth, the Admiral suspected Kira's peace wouldn't have lasted long, even if he'd successfully made it to Orb. Even had the Porta Panama mass driver not been destroyed, Orb would've been targeted by the Earth Forces eventually; Muruta Azrael's ambitions made that inevitable. Yet, the peace would've been there for a time, at least, and evacuating to Ame-no-Mihashira would've prolonged it. _The Alliance won't dare attack Sahaku's stronghold, _he mused. _They might succeed, but only by using forces better spent against ZAFT. Perhaps your peace _would've _been a lasting one, young Kira... but would you have been able to live with yourself, I wonder?_

He suspected that the answer to that question was on Kira's face now. The weary look had been replaced by a fire in his eyes, a determination to see it through to the end... and the sword he carried was proof that, however they might differ in some matter, he and Ken still had much in common.

"I see you really _did_ have the will to see it through to the end," Halberton said finally. "Right, Kira Yamato?"

Kira jerked in surprise. "Uh, Admiral! I, uh, didn't see you there, Sir..."

The admiral waved a hand. "Don't worry about it, Kira; you were obviously preoccupied." He tilted his head. "You know, back in February I never would've imagined you'd come this far."

"I didn't either," the pilot admitted. "I fought only to protect my friends; I was hoping to just leave the ship when we got to Earth. But they stayed around, so I figured someone had to keep protecting them... and then that shuttle went down." He looked back up at Freedom. "I vowed then that I wouldn't let anyone else die, no matter what it might cost the enemy... or me."

"And in the end, it cost you a great deal," Halberton noted. "I've talked with Falcon; he spoke of the strain you were under, especially when the Vice Minister's daughter was still manipulating you. He also maintains," he added, "that if it weren't for Miss Cagalli, you might've snapped."

"Maybe so," Kira said quietly. "She... helped me a lot, especially after I realized what Flay was doing. That's when I started to understand what was really at stake. And then... I fought Athrun, in the Marshall Islands. Tolle died there, and Athrun and I nearly killed each other..."

"And you ended up in the PLANTs, being nursed back to health by Miss Lacus and Falcon's partisans." The admiral smiled sadly. "No one would've blamed you if you'd left the battlefield for good after that. For my part, _I _thought you were dead; communication intercepts indicated that Alaska thought so, and so did the _Archangel._ That kind of experience must've affected you rather deeply."

Kira nodded. "It did. And for the first time, I was able to look at war in a different way. Not from the inside, but from the outside, with the perspective of my own experience. I realized how... how _futile_ it all was; all those people killing and dying for nothing... I couldn't just stay there and be safe, Admiral. I had to _do_ something, because, like Falcon and Mu told me a long time ago, I _do_ have the power to make a difference. If I didn't put it to good use, I'd never be able to live with myself, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean," Halberton said sagely. "Once you've stepped onto the path, there's really no turning back. You can stay out of it from the beginning, but once you're in it, you can't let your comrades down."

"I went back into war to stop the killing," Kira said pensively. "I came back to Earth to save the _Archangel,_ and I kept on fighting so that people wouldn't have to die in this pointless war anymore." He sighed. "And that's where Falcon and I don't agree anymore. This 'Shiva Option' of his... it's just leading to more killing..."

"Yet far less than if nuclear weapons were used on the PLANTs, or if GENESIS were fired against Earth," Halberton pointed out quietly. "More may die in the short run, yes, but you'll find Falcon cares little for the short term. He aims to stop the bloodshed completely in the long term, and that will save more lives than he's taking right now."

Kira shook his head. "I don't understand his reasoning," he said frankly. "I just don't. How can he be so cold? I thought at first he didn't care at all; then I thought it was just an act, to keep the world guessing. Now... now I think he sees people as numbers on paper..."

"That was true once," Halberton agreed. "Between Endymion and the Marshall Islands, I think that's exactly how he felt. But since then, and before Endymion, his thinking's been very different." He stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "The difference between the two of you, and, I think, the reason you can't understand his thinking, is that h's a soldier, Kira... and you aren't."

Kira blinked in confusion. "Huh? But I've fought as hard as anyone..."

"Perhaps I should've said you're not a _career_ soldier," the admiral corrected himself. "You fight only as long as this war lasts; you were dragged into it against your will, and you don't intend to stay with soldiering beyond the war's end. Falcon, on the other hand... Well, he's not really a soldier, either. He's a warrior."

The pilot blinked again. "What's the difference?"

"The differences are somewhat subtle at times, but they're there. First, a soldier is someone who fights as part of a unit, as though they're all parts of the same body. A warrior, on the other hand, fights as an individual, relying only upon his own strength." Halberton gazed speculatively at Preybird. "In the war room, Falcon is certainly a soldier; his plans reflect that. But surely you've noticed this, too: when he enters the battlefield, he fights alone."

Kira shrugged. "He always says it's because no one can keep up with him; that others would just slow him down."

The admiral nodded. "Oh, there's a certain amount of truth in that; but more to the point, he relies on his own strength more than anything else. Unlike a soldier, he's been training in the arts of war for his entire life; he was studying the blade and unarmed combat when he was a mere child, and he joined ZAFT before practically anyone else."

"But he was trained first as an engineer-"

"Yes," Halberton acknowledged. "But you've seen how he _applies_ his talents. GENESIS was conceived as an engine of peace, yet he quite effectively turned it into a powerful weapon; almost instinctively, one might say. A more pertinent example, though, is _that."_ He nodded at the dormant Preybird, which looked lethal even with its power down; quite unlike the majestic Freedom, it looked, like its pilot's namesake, the peregrine falcon, like it had exactly one purpose: hunting. "He trusts Preybird more than any other weapon in his arsenal; possibly more even than his own comrades. He designed it to his own exacting specifications, his most trusted subordinates constructed it, and so he knows it will perform exactly as he expects it to. In battle, the Grimaldi Falcon and the Preybird are one and the same, a single well-honed weapon. Like a katana, the pilot is the soft, flexible core, and the machine is the tough, sharp outer edge. He trusts it implicitly." He shook his head. "No, Kira, for all that Falcon himself might believe differently, his knowledge of engineering is nothing more than another warrior's tool for him. For you, fighting is a regrettable necessity, one which you'll abandon once the war is over. Falcon... for him, the battlefield is his life; it's what he's trained for all his life, and it's very likely what he'll keep on doing... until the very end."

"No matter how many people die in the process?" Kira said quietly.

"It's his job, Kira," Halberton said gently. "I won't tell you what to think any more than Falcon would, but I leave you with this observation: Falcon has far more direct experience with warfare than you, and he's studied it all his life. So I would suggest you keep in mind that if _he_ believes this is the only way things can be done, he just may be right."

"He _did_ nearly get us killed out there yesterday," Kira pointed out.

The admiral nodded slowly. "True; and I have no doubt your captain is going to talk to him about it. But it was a very uncommon mistake, Kira. If you don't believe me... then remember that he used to be one of the Earth Alliance's most feared enemies, and not just in the cockpit."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Ken's Quarters

* * *

After coming off duty and leaving the Bridge in Natarle's hands, Murrue had realized it was time for a discussion she wasn't exactly looking forward to. It really ought to have come sooner, but after the mild chaos of settling details with the _Odin,_ this was the first opportunity... especially considering that it wasn't a conversation she wanted to have in public.

Arriving at the ace's quarters, she hit the buzzer; and to her surprise, the hatch simply slid aside, as though he'd been expecting a visitor. _And perhaps he was; he had to've known this was coming, after yesterday's debacle._

At first, she found it odd that the compartment's lights were off; but then she realized it made perfect sense. After all, what use did a man have for lights when his eyes weren't working? And besides, he probably found it soothing, even when he _could_ see.

"Ken?" Murrue said tentatively. "We... need to talk."

"I know," his quiet voice said from somewhere within. "I screwed up yesterday, and nearly got us all killed. If Kira hadn't launched when he did, I don't know if even _Odin_'s arrival would've saved us." As the hatch slid shut, a gloved hand touched a switch, and the lights came up, to reveal Ken sitting at his computer terminal, wearing his trench coat, by now battered from the Banadiya firefight and months of wear and tear.

"You're right," she said quietly. "You _did_ screw up, and I'd like to know why. Everything hinges on our success, and if we all die, where does that leave us?"

Ken sighed, rubbing the older sword scar on his face. "I'm an arrogant man, Murrue," he said wearily. "You know that as well as I. I'm also unused to failure, and I've never had a high opinion of the Earth Forces." His other hand restlessly tapped the keyboard in front of him. "I mean, think about it: in the time I was with ZAFT, the only major battles we lost were the Bloody Valentine, the First Battle of Victoria, and the Battle of Endymion. Even after Alaska and Orb, I was just too used to the Earth Forces being useless... Stupid of me." He sighed. "Death comes to the overconfident... and that's exactly what nearly happened."

"Why didn't you have a backup plan?" she asked, eyes narrow; she didn't like having to ask these questions, but if he made a mistake that big when it all came to a head...

"I was complacent," he said simply. "Our earlier raids had gone like clockwork, and like too many generals in the past, I fell into the assumption that they would _all_ go that way. Not that a backup plan would've done any good in that situation..."

"Excuses won't help," Murrue, speaking sharply for the first time.

"I'm not making excuses," he shot back irritably. "I'm well aware I should've had a backup plan, no matter how useless it would've been under the circumstances. It's a dangerous habit to fall into, and a stupid one at that. I'm accustomed to winning, Murrue, because that's what I usually do, and in the process I forgot that defeat teaches lessons far more valuable than success."

She slowly shook her head. "I never thought I'd hear you, of all people, talking like that. And you're right; what you did yesterday _was_ stupid." Her head came up. "On the other hand, it's reasonable to say that _we_ were just as stupid."

Ken raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You're not the only one who was overconfident," she said flatly. "If _I'd_ been thinking straight, I'd have realized we were putting a little too much trust in one man's plan. For that matter, Natarle's from a military family; she should've known better than to blindly follow you into that mess, without so much as a Plan B." She gave him a hard stare, which she felt confident he'd feel even without sight. "It won't happen again, understand me, Commander?"

"Perfectly, Captain," he said formally.

Murrue nodded. "Good." She relaxed the glare, and tilted her head curiously. "Now that we've got that out of the way, mind telling me why you were sitting there in dark, brooding? I doubt what happened yesterday could've dampened your determination _that_ badly."

"Yesterday was the catalyst," he said slowly, "but it's not just that, no." His sightless face came up. "If I made that big a mistake in a mission as simple as that... how do I know I haven't made an even bigger mistake with the Shiva Option?"

She blinked. "You can't mean that."

Ken shrugged uneasily. "I don't know anything anymore, Murrue. I've walked this path for a long time now... yet most of the world thinks I'm crazy to believe I have any chance of pulling this off. And... how did I manage to drag kids like Kira and Miriallia and the others into this? I have no regrets about the _Archangel,_ or my own people; we're all soldiers, that's what we do. But more people have gotten involved in this than ever should've even _known_ about it... and now I'm not even sure if it's going to do any good. Can I really drag them through this, when it may well be in vain?"

Murrue closed her eyes. "Ken," she said gently, "if you start second-guessing yourself, it'll be even worse than the overconfidence from yesterday. Look, we've _all_ looked over the plan; you and the Demons went over it backwards and forwards when you first came up with it, and the rest of us have been over it with a fine-toothed comb ever since you finally got around to explaining it. It's desperate, but even Natarle agrees that it's sound. Besides, you conceived it just after one of the worst personal defeats of your career, so I think overconfidence was unlikely to be involved." She shrugged. "And as for dragging people along with you, I think that's hardly fair. Oh, Kuzzey wasn't exactly suited to it; he stayed around only because the others did, and he left as soon as he understood he was out of place. And Tolle..." She sighed. "Tolle, I think, had read one too many adventure novels. But the others... Sai and Miriallia knew exactly what they were getting into, and Flay's understood ever since you saved her from Le Creuset. And Kira, well, he had the chance to back out after the Strike was nearly destroyed in the Marshall Islands. He didn't; and I don't think he came back just to follow your lead."

"_That's_ certainly the truth," Ken muttered, and she chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose that's rather obvious. But Ken, the point is that, while you may've started all this, you're not 'dragging' _anyone_ with you. The students made their own choice, and, as you said, the rest of us are soldiers. We'll see this through, one way or another."

The ace opened his mouth to say something in response, but the intercom beat him to it. _"Falcon?"_ Natarle said, form the Bridge. _"Are you there?"_

"Affirmative, Natarle," he said, snapping upright. "What is it?"

_"Is the Captain there with you?"_

"Right here, Natarle," Murrue acknowledged. "Is something wrong?"

_"I think you should both come to the Bridge,"_ Natarle said grimly. _"Something's happening in low orbit... and it looks big."_

"On our way."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

As soon as the pair arrived on the Bridge, Natarle vacated the command chair, and nodded at the display. "It looks like they're pulling the same sort of stunt ZAFT did at Alaska," she said without preamble. "They used the Victoria mass driver to launch mobile suit forces into orbit, and now they appear to be dropping them in on Carpentaria from above."

_"It's Operation 8.8,"_ Halberton said, from _Odin_'s Bridge. _"We'd heard about it, but we weren't sure what the objective was. Now we know."_

Ken's fist clenched. "They're going to drive ZAFT out of the Carpentaria Base," he said quietly. "It's going to be a smashing victory for the Earth Alliance... or at least that's what it's going to look like." He turned to Murrue. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

She nodded, taking the center chair. "Zala will take the opportunity to withdraw ZAFT forces from the surface, on the pretense that it's a tactical retreat... when instead he's just getting troops out of the line of fire." Her eyes went to the ace. "How long do we have, at this rate?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Construction of GENESIS is probably already complete; but ZAFT's space forces will still be too strong for even Muruta Azrael to take on... which means Patrick might be able to use his own weapon with impunity."

_"Captain Ramius,"_ Andy Waltfeld said, from _Eternal, "I think it's time we let up on the Earth Forces. Keep this up, and they'll be _too_ weak. I think it's time we started softening up ZAFT. This has a real potential for getting out of control. The Earth Forces will think they're in complete control of the situation... until the moment GENESIS blows them away."_

"Agreed," Murrue said quietly. "Ken, I think we're as ready as we're going to be. It's time to make our next move."

"I know," Ken concurred. "And I think we should-"

"Message coming in from _Arkbird,"_ Flay interrupted, "relayed by satellite from the dark side of the Moon. Should I put it on?"

Murrue nodded. "Please, Flay." She glanced at Ken. "I wonder what's up now?"

"I don't know."

A moment later, Sparky's voice came up on the speakers. _"We got news, Boss,"_ he began. _"First of all, the Eyrie seems to be structurally intact; we can use the place, when it comes to it. Looks like the demolition charges did exactly what they were supposed to."_ He cleared his throat. _"But we've got bad news, too: seems ZAFT has another unpleasant surprise up their sleeves, one we never even suspected: somewhere out there is a device codenamed 'GENESIS Alpha."_

Ken hissed in surprise, looking for a moment like he'd been hit with an axe. _Another one? But... Patrick, you've gone too far!_

_"We don't know where it is yet,"_ Sparky went on, _"but we've gotten word both the Junk Guild and Serpent Tail have taken an interest in the matter. Also... it appears ZAFT's built another nuclear-powered unit, something called ZGMF-X11A Regenerate. All we have is from communications intercepts, and it's not much, but what we do have is nothing good."_

Murrue watched the ace carefully, and noted with some concern that every muscle in his body appeared to be vibrating. She'd never seen him look quite that enraged before... _It's like the Bloody Valentine,_ she thought uneasily. _If he loses control..._

But he didn't. Slowly, the Grimaldi Falcon forced his body to relax, using the techniques Heinrich Metzinger had buried in his subconscious to reach for the unnatural calm that was his trademark. _I can't lose control,_ he told himself firmly. _Save it, for now; use your anger later, when you have need of the SEED. For now, you need absolute calm..._

"All right," he said finally, voice level. "Our next target appears to have selected itself. Murrue, do you concur with that analysis?"

"We can't let a weapon like that go unchallenged, can we?" she said simply. "It'll help accomplish our primary objective, too; by doing this, we weaken ZAFT _and_ prevent Zala from having more than one of those devices." She looked up at the main monitor. "Admiral Halberton, are you with us?"

Halberton nodded sharply. _"Of course, Captain,"_ he said firmly. _"The thought of just one of those things is enough to make me lose sleep; two is a terrible thought."_

Ken turned toward Flay's station. "Flay," he said, "send a message to _Arkbird._ Message begins: I don't think either of your ships can get here in time, Sparky, so I want you and Tom to stay where you are. Make sure your ships are ready, and prepare the Eyrie for reoccupation. In the meantime, try and get us as much information about GENESIS Alpha as you can; we need its location at the very least, and preferably its exact specifications, though I don't expect you to manage that much. And... find out whatever you can about this 'Regenerate'; I don't like the thought of ZAFT having more nuclear-powered machines. DiFalco out. Message ends." Without another word, he headed for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Murrue called after him.

"To tell Doc Hibson that if I'm not back on flight status by the time we find GENESIS Alpha, I'm throwing him out the airlock without a suit."

* * *

Author's note: _Archangel_ has picked up a new ally, in the form of a rogue escort ship, a rogue admiral, and a rogue mobile suit ace; now their forces are beginning to resemble something with the might to carry out the Grimaldi Falcon's plan. Yet fissures have begun to open between two of their members, even as another threat rears its head...

All right, I know, the chapter had a whole of talking and not a lot of anything going on; regrettably, there were things that needed explaining, and that took some time. Next chapter should have some action in it, though.

However, I should mention now that Chapter 42 will be a bit late, as I've decided it's time to update A Call to Arms. My apologies for the delay, but since that story hasn't been updated in nearly four months, I think I really should get in at least one chapter for it. -Solid Shark


	42. Chapter 42: Falcon's Test

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

I also do not own the _Odin;_ it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

_Archangel,_ Captain's Office, August 13th, C.E. 71

* * *

Five days had passed since Sparky's warning of a new ZAFT deployment had reached the _Archangel._ During that time, the four ships -the three original True ZAFT vessels and the _Odin-_ had done little to prepare; until Sparky's contacts uncovered _where_ they needed to look, there was little they could do about it other than make sure repairs were complete and all systems were go. 

That was not to say that the crews had nothing to occupy their attention during that time; Ken, for one, watched with increasing unease as the battle for control on Earth's surface took a new turn. For the past sixteen months, since the deployment of Neutron-jammers in Operation Uroboros, ZAFT had won most of the battles, depriving the Earth Alliance of all their mass drivers and securing effective control of a significant portion of the surface.

Then had come the Battle of Alaska, which cost ZAFT over half their field strength on the planet; and though the Battle of Panama promptly deprived the Alliance of their last mass driver, the tide had clearly turned. With the subsequent reclamation of the Victoria Spaceport -and _its_ mass driver- by the Earth Forces, and the demonstration of nuclear power at Orb, ZAFT offensive operations on the planet's surface had effectively ceased. Within two months of the Battle of Orb, all Earth-based ZAFT forces had withdrawn to Carpentaria, Gibraltar, and Kaohsiung, while others used the remaining mass drivers to return to the space. Earth's regained nuclear power had apparently proven to be an overwhelming factor on Earth itself.

That alone had been enough to concern Ken DiFalco. He knew Patrick Zala better than his own son did, and it wasn't like the man to give up so easily at the first threat of a nuclear strike; Zala knew as well as Ken did that Muruta Azrael couldn't afford to keep flinging nuclear weapons around within the atmosphere if he wanted to maintain the notion of fighting "for the preservation of our blue and pure world".

That meant Zala was more than likely preparing for an overwhelming counterattack of his own... with unconventional weaponry.

Operation 8.8 had been the last straw. Carpentaria had been taken not long after the Ayers Rock Landing Operation, and Gibraltar had suffered the same fate within days. The ZAFT forces that were not captured or killed during these operations had fled to Kaohsiung, whereupon they -and the spaceport garrison- had sought the sanctuary of space. The Taiwanese mass driver had burned in their wake, leaving little for the Earth Alliance to recover.

And the Earth Alliance Forces, dominated by agents of Muruta Azrael's Blue Cosmos, now held sway over the planet.

"The war is entering its final phase," Ken said tiredly, examining a holographic display; once again, he wore an eyepatch over a Prussian blue left eye laced with silver, while a normal eye gazed out from the right. Though they were not completely back to normal yet, he could once again see without the use of clumsy devices.

"Yes," Murrue Ramius agreed quietly, "I think you're right. With Earth in complete control over its territory for the first time since the April Fool's Crisis, the only defensive operations that need concern them are over Ptolemaeus, and their orbital bases... and that never took up more than a fraction of their resources."

Andrew Waltfeld nodded in silence, while Aisha sighed, rubbing the scar the LaGOWE's destruction had left her. "Yeah, that sounds about right," she concurred sadly. "How long do you think we have, Falcon?"

The ace rubbed his own latest scar, the horizontal one over his eyes. "I give it a month before they can begin offensive operations against the PLANTs. Just because they no longer have to worry about defending planet-side bases doesn't mean they can just charge ahead; first they need to consolidate their forces in space. They'll be pulling everything off Lagrange points Three and Four, I expect; Three never had anything of strategic value anyway, and Four only has a few dozen wrecked or abandoned space colonies. There's nothing there that they'd find more important than a final, smashing blow to the PLANTs."

"And they're playing right in Patrick Zala's hands." She shook her head. "They've got no clue, do they?"

"Not unless Le Creuset's been passing them information again," Waltfeld said, speaking for the first time. "And under the circumstances, I don't think that's likely. He gave Azrael information about Operation Spit Break to provoke a massacre; he gave the slimy bastard the N-jammer canceler technology for the same reason. Now it's in his best interests to just let things proceed as they are, since any Earth Forces attack will lead inevitably to the use of GENESIS."

Murrue looked at Falcon. "Does that mean we've done enough? If both sides are already heading for what we've been trying to arrange..."

Before Ken could speak, Aisha cut in. "I'm afraid not, Murrue. Oh, it's a perfect setup in some ways; there's no doubt that this will be the final battle. But without our intervention, it'll likely result in the destruction of both the Earth and the PLANTs. And since _we_ don't have the forces to take on both at once, as things stand..."

"The Earth Forces are in essentially the position we want now," Waltfeld mused. "They were the thornier problem, since they had greater manpower, but we've given them enough trouble to make things difficult for them, especially considering that their mobile suit forces are practically a joke. ZAFT, now... they were never a major issue, since the Earth Forces seemed to be doing the job nicely, but as long as they still have this 'GENESIS Alpha'..."

"They won't have it for long," Ken said grimly. "No matter what it takes, we're getting rid of that monstrosity." He shook his head. "It must be a recent addition to their arsenal, that's for sure; there's no way Patrick could've slipped something like this past me. He wouldn't have _wanted_ to, in fact. It was my job to figure out how to deploy the original GENESIS, so I'd have been the one he'd turn to for strategy."

"Unless he thought you were no longer reliable," Murrue suggested.

Waltfeld snorted. "Not likely, Murrue. If Patrick Zala had at all suspect the Commander here was untrustworthy, he'd never have let him keep the position he had. Besides, look at how much of the data he had on battle plans still proved valid months after his desertion."

"If there was anyone Patrick trusted, it was me," Ken agreed. "I was the strategic brains of his operations, and in charge of his most secret project... not to mention its designer. No, this is something newer... and I don't like it one bit."

_That's an understatement,_ Murrue thought. _I thought you were going to explode when you heard the news... not that I blame you._

The discussion was interrupted by the intercom. _"Captain,"_ Flay called, _"we have new information coming in on the GENESIS Alpha situation."_

"We're on our way," Murrue said immediately, and turned to Ken. "It sounds like we may finally have the information we need."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"We received several messages in the last hour," Flay said, when they arrived on the Bridge. "The first was from Captain Cooper." 

Murrue nodded. "Let's hear it."

_"We've got some of the data you asked for, Boss,"_ Sparky's voice said a moment later. _"Not nearly as much as we'd prefer, but it's enough to give us a ballpark on what we're facing. First of all, we've determined from various reports that GENESIS Alpha is located somewhere within the Debris Belt, probably in one of the relatively stable zones. It's exact location is, unfortunately, unknown, but by correlating data from the Regenerate's raids -of which there have now been several- we've figured out that its base -and GENESIS Alpha- has to be in there somewhere."_

"Makes sense," Ken murmured, almost to himself. "The Earth Forces don't patrol the Debris Belt much, and for good reason; too much risk of getting smashed by debris. A GENESIS device, though... that could just blast larger chunks out of existence if it had to..."

_"We've also uncovered some information on the Regenerate itself,"_ Sparky went on, _"from observational data and some files we've carefully hacked out of ZAFT computers. As its model number indicates, it's in the same series as Preybird, Freedom, and Justice; which means it has phase-shift, the new-model targeting computers... and nuclear power. Like the Justice, it seems to be based off the Aegis, except that this unit retains the transformation capabilities of the X300 frames."_ Ken could almost hear the grimace behind the next words. _"Also... it's huge. A good thirty-five meters long in mobile armor mode, and apparently capable of tremendous speeds in that configuration. We don't know how it does it -or why it's so large- but some reports refer to it as a ship; I guess it remained in mobile armor mode during some attacks, and the size confused people. Anyway, that's about all we've got, Boss, but I hope it's enough. _Arkbird,_ out."_

Murrue frowned. "That doesn't sound good," she said slowly. "At least now we know where to look... but I don't fancy taking on a GENESIS unit as well as a mobile suit that large. Machines that big tend to be armed with weapons of commensurate stature."

"I don't like the sound of that speed, either," Waltfeld murmured. "I don't know how a mobile suit could pull that off in the first place."

"I'm afraid I do," Ken said unhappily. "If the mobile suit incorporates certain features, well... You remember what I originally designed GENESIS for, don't you?"

Murrue grimaced. "I forgot. Propulsion."

"Exactly." He rubbed his eyepatch thoughtfully. "If that thing has the proper receptor surfaces on its rear fuselage, it could easily use the emissions from GENESIS Alpha for high-speed propulsion, making interception extremely difficult."

Aisha rubbed her scar again. "Hm; yeah, I bet that _would_ make things difficult. On the other hand, if _we_ managed to capture it, and use it for our own operations..."

"Absolutely not," Ken said coldly, stiffening. "I will not allow one of those devices to exist; the temptation to use it as a weapon would be too great, and I will _not_ permit that. I'll destroy it, even if I have to tear it apart with my bare hands."

She coughed. _Oops; sore subject, I guess. Not that I blame him._ "Of course, Falcon," she said smoothly. "You're the expert."

"Don't rub it in," he muttered, but the coldness had vanished from voice and expression alike.

Murrue cleared her throat. "Ah, Flay, I believe you said we received _several_ messages? What would the others be?"

Flay nodded, tapping commands into her console. "The next came in from the Serpent Tail mercenary organization; apparently, Mister Murakumo believed we should be kept informed about the situation... though I'm not sure why..."

Ken grimaced. "Word travels fast, Flay; Murakumo probably heard that I was GENESIS' designer, and figured that if anyone knew how to deal with it, it'd be me." He frowned. "I wonder, though... how did _he_ learn of GENESIS Alpha? An informant, maybe?"

She shrugged. "The message indicates that Serpent Tail has been in contact with the Junk Guild, and they learned of it from some freelance information dealer."

"Information dealer." He didn't bother to hide his disgust. "I don't mind mercenaries -not everyone has a cause to be truly committed to- but data traders always strike me as people who deal in information that's none of their business, selling it to other people who have no business knowing it."

"Came in handy this time," Murrue pointed out. "Sometimes you have to deal with people you'd rather never even existed."

"You're telling _me?"_ Unspoken -as it was, in retrospect, obvious- was the reminder that Ken had dealt with the Earth Forces for several months, despite wishing they'd never been born in the first place. "All right, Flay, what does my friend Murakumo have to say?"

"He also had an encounter with the Regenerate," Flay answered. "The Blue Frame was damaged, as was Serpent Tail's _Laurasia_-class. Regenerate retreated after sustaining minor damage, however, and the message includes vector data on its withdrawal."

Waltfeld nodded thoughtfully. "That could be useful; we need all the leads we can get to find the ZAFT base's exact location." He glanced up. "Did he have anything else to say?"

She nodded. "Yes, Sir. He's on his way to rendezvous with the Junk Guild vessel _ReHOME,_ to enlist their assistance in repairs and consult with them on the current situation."

Murrue frowned. "The _ReHOME..._ that's the _Cornelius_-class tender, isn't it? The ship that was built to service the _Archangel?"_

"That's the one," Ken confirmed, thinking. "I missed the _Odin_ data while on Heliopolis, but I picked up on the_ Cornelius..._ Lowe Guele and the Professor are using her these days, aren't they? And the so-called 'GG Unit'?" For himself, he'd found the concept of George Glenn living on in that state mildly disturbing; he'd prefer a quick, clean death any day.

"Yes, I believe so," she answered. "Are you familiar with the Professor, by the way?"

"Slightly; I met her during my voyage to Heliopolis on the original _HOME._ Weird woman, I'll tell you that; brilliant, but strange." He glanced sidelong at Flay. "Let me guess: the next message is from Lowe Guele himself, right?"

Flay nodded. "That's right. According to the message, _ReHOME_ was also attacked by Regenerate, not long after the Serpent Tail incident. The Red Frame's... Power Loader?... unit was damaged, but they succeeded in forcing the ZAFT unit to retreat."

"Power Loader?" Ken shook his head. "Sounds like Lowe's been experimenting again; at this rate, he'll have come up with more equipment configurations than Gai Murakumo's Blue Frame." He shrugged it off. "Anything else?"

"We were contacted directly by Ame-no-Mihashira," she answered; a fact unsurprising in itself. The station and its personnel had been on considerably better terms with True ZAFT since the death of Rondo Ghina Sahaku. "Lieutenant Archer relayed a message from Lady Sahaku, saying that the three Astray prototypes will be joining forces to deal with the clear and present danger presented by Regenerate and GENESIS Alpha, and that they would like to rendezvous with us once the target's location has been discovered."

Ken considered that for several moments. "Events are moving faster than I anticipated," he said at last. "If the saner of the Sahakus has already been in contact with Murakumo and Lowe, and gotten them to cooperate with her... a clear and present danger, indeed." He turned to _Archangel_'s captain. "Murrue? What do you think?" Though he was technically in overall command of True ZAFT, he disliked making unilateral decisions; he'd never operated that way in ZAFT, and refused to change now. Besides, his blunder during what the _Odin_'s people had deemed "Operation Zantetsuken" had given him a harsh lesson in his own fallibility.

In this case, though, Murrue was in agreement with his unspoken analysis. "I think we should do it, Ken," she replied readily. "Neither Sparky nor Tom can reach us in time, which severely cuts down on our forces; and I think both the Junk Guild and Serpent Tail have demonstrated their skill in... unconventional situations. Add in the resources of Ame-no-Mihashira and the Sahaku family..."

He sighed, as though in relief. "Thank you, Murrue; that is essentially what I was thinking. I just didn't want to lead anyone into a death trap like Operation Zantetsuken nearly was."

"Don't start second-guessing yourself, Falcon," Waltfeld warned. "Remembering your mistakes is good, but allowing them to cloud your thinking isn't."

"I know," Ken acknowledged. "The only problem is that I'm not used to _making_ mistakes of that magnitude, so my experience in dealing with the consequences is also limited." He shrugged it off, and turned back to Flay. "Flay, send a message to Ame-no-Mihashira, via the satellite relays. Tell Lady Sahaku we'll meet them on the way, and provide them with our projected course."

She nodded. "Got it, Falcon."

_At least _they're_ getting along these days,_ Murrue reflected. _I hear we almost had a bloodbath in the Infirmary after she shot at Dearka; it's nice to see they've put that behind them._ "Arnold," she said aloud, "move us out, three-quarter thrust."

"Aye, aye," Neumann acknowledged, and bent to his task.

_Archangel_ swept on, _Eternal,_ _Kusanagi,_ and _Odin_ in her wake, toward what they hoped would be the last battle... before the real thing.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Deck

* * *

_The stars... look so peaceful..._ Cagalli thought, staring out the tall, wide viewport into space. _It's too bad... that we're here to see them only because war brought us back here. To finish what Ken started... what my father died for..._

She swallowed hard, remembering Uzumi Nara Athha's sacrifice. His death had been the price they'd paid to bring Ken DiFalco's plan out beyond the reach of Muruta Azrael's nuclear weapons; the weapons Ken's deadly creation, the Preybird, had brought to Orb, because of Azrael's fear of it.

Yet Cagalli had not thought for even one moment to blame the ace. Her father had _chosen_ to die; he could've escaped with the _Kusanagi_ or the _Archangel,_ but he chose to remain behind and suffer Orb's fate, as it was engulfed in nuclear fury. He believed he bore a part of the responsibility for bringing that destruction upon his nation, so he'd chosen to see it through to the bitter end...

No. It was _not_ Ken DiFalco's fault. It had been his war, his creations, his plans that had brought nuclear weapons to Orb, but it had been inevitable that the Earth Forces would attack, once they had lost their last mass driver. The day Panama fell, Orb's demise became certain... and so, while Uzumi Nara Athha vanished in his nuclear funeral pyre, two ships had fled to space, carrying Orb's hopes and ideals with them.

And Orb's heir, Uzumi's daughter.

_Why didn't he tell me?_ Cagalli wondered. _Did he feel so ashamed of what my mother did that he hoped to bury it entirely...? ...I guess we'll never know. Father's dead, Mother's dead, Hibiki and his wife are dead... even Metzinger got sliced in half by Ken..._

"You look gloomy, Sis," Dearka remarked, floating into the compartment. "Something on your mind?"

"Something like that," she confirmed quietly. "It's just..." She trailed off. "...What did you call me?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just... that you look just like her. She'd be your age, if she were still alive; probably still would've looked like you..."

Cagalli frowned in confusion. "'She', who?"

The smile turned sad. "My sister, Laura."

"I... I didn't know you had a sister..."

"I don't talk about it much," Dearka admitted. "She died last year, in the Bloody Valentine; that's why I reacted so strangely when I first got a good look at you, in Orb. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were her twin, and sometimes I kinda forgot you're _not_ her."

"I... I see..." In fact, Cagalli _did_ see. She'd noticed long before that her partner's old friend had an air of sadness about him sometimes; he'd get a faraway look in his eyes... usually while looking at _her,_ now that she thought about it. "Did... did Ken know her?"

"Did Falcon know who?" Mu asked, entering behind Dearka. "Oh, hey, you two; didn't expect to find anyone here at this hour." It was a little past midnight, ship's time.

"I couldn't sleep," Cagalli admitted, "and, since Kira's asleep -as he should be, since we've got a battle coming- I came out here to look at the stars for awhile. Thought it'd help me relax."

"Me, too," Dearka murmured. "A lot's happened in the past few months..."

"Yeah," Mu agreed quietly. "Nothing is the same as before..." He remembered vividly the Battle of Endymion, and hurriedly turned his thoughts away from it. "So, like I was saying, who was it that Falcon did or didn't know?"

"It was my sister, Laura," Dearka explained. "And yes... he knew her."

The quiet pain in his voice, Cagalli suddenly realized, wasn't just for himself. "That photo Ken keeps in his cockpit," she whispered in sudden understanding. "That's her, isn't it?"

Mu's eyebrows came together in surprise. "You mean the girl who looks like you?"

"That'd be the one," Dearka confirmed. "She was my sister, and... Well, this is more Falcon's story to tell you than mine, but... I think you should know." He took a deep breath. "Laura was Falcon's teammate at the time of the Bloody Valentine... and his girlfriend."

Cagalli nodded in comprehension, and Mu whistled. "I get it now," he murmured. "No wonder he's so cold... a loss like that, at an impressionable age... No wonder he hates nuclear weapons so badly. And no wonder he wanted to find a way to wipe out entire fleets. It wasn't just to protect the PLANTs... it was to make sure nothing like that could ever happen to him again."

"That's right," Buster's pilot said with a sigh. "It scarred him, badly; I don't think he even remembers what happened after that. Even from the visual records, it's hard to figure out. He was pulling maneuvers the MMI engineers said couldn't be done with a GINN; he was completely consumed by Berserker rage. And..." He paused, closing his eyes. "He's never said her name since that day. He won't talk about her, won't think about her if he can help it... and never, _ever_ says her name."

"He's keeping it bottled up," Cagalli said, voice barely audible. "That explains his outburst, the day I knocked his eyepatch off in the desert. That inhuman control keeps his emotions in check almost all the time... but when it cracks..."

"He's waiting," Mu murmured. "Waiting for the end of the war. When the final battle comes, either he'll die, and not have to worry about it, or live, and finally have the chance to admit his grief when breaking down won't get people killed."

"That's about the size of it," Dearka agreed. "Right now, he's using every bit of rage and grief this war's inflicted on him to fuel his determination; if the war lasts too long, it'll burn him up from the inside, but until that happens, he'll use it as a tool... and never let it out as long as the war is on."

"Except when something cracks that control," the Hawk pointed out. "I saw it, at Mendel; when Le Creuset talked about using GENESIS, Falcon snapped, and charged at him with a sword. That's how he got shot up so badly. And ever since, he's had that Sword of Damocles hanging over his head in a way it never was when Patrick Zala was the only threat." He shook his head. "I've been keeping an eye on him since then... but someone needs to talk to him, soon."

"Yeah," Cagalli agreed. "I think you're right. But... how do we even get through to him?"

The other two exchanged glances, and Mu nodded. "_We_ don't," Dearka said simply. _"You_ do."

She blinked. "Why _me?"_

"Because you're the closest thing he has to a sister," Mu said bluntly.

Cagalli shook her head. "No way. Sophia..."

"The Victorian Kestrel, lovely as she is, isn't the right person for this," he said patiently. "She's no more blood-related to Falcon than you are, and before Africa they'd not been on the best of terms for several years. _You,_ on the other hand, started with a blank slate as far as he's concerned... and you're also the only person, besides Rau Le Creuset, who's been known to get much of an emotional reaction out of him."

"And an emotional reaction," Dearka added, "is something that would be reassuring to see right now. Besides anger, I mean; like Mu said, hearing Le Creuset's ranting got him so mad he nearly got shot dead."

"Yes," Mu said thoughtfully, "he got so angry he just had to vent his spleen."

Cagalli blinked, then -recalling Ken's catalogue of injuries following the Mendel battle- chuckled appreciatively. "All right," she said finally. "I'll talk to him. I don't know what good it'll do, but I can try. Though I still think somebody else would be better for the job; the Captain, maybe."

Dearka snorted. "Not likely; she's part of the reason I'm worried about him. If you ask me, I don't think what's going on there is exactly one-sided... but Falcon will never admit it. Like you said, he keeps it all bottled up inside."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Ken's Quarters

* * *

Somehow, Cagalli wasn't surprised when Ken's hatch slid open at the first knock; she'd never seen the young pilot sleep, after all. Rumor said he did so occasionally, but in her experience, he was usually just in a deep martial arts meditation, using that to secure desperately needed rest without risking nightmares. 

_I always wondered about that,_ she thought, stepping cautiously in, _never dreaming Ken was terrified of the end of the world... literally._

"Good evening, Cagalli," Ken said quietly, looking up as she entered. "Didn't expect you to be wandering about this late."

"Couldn't sleep," Cagalli said simply. "And it looks like you couldn't, either."

"Sleep comes to me less and less easily these days," he admitted, leaning back in his desk chair. "So I meditate, instead." He raised an eyebrow. "But what brings you _here_ at this hour?"

"That," she told him. "Your sleeping problem, I mean; that's part of it." She met his gaze. "You haven't been brooding again, have you?"

The corner of Ken's mouth twitched. "Whatever gave you that idea, partner?"

"I know you too well, partner," Cagalli shot back. "So does Mu, and so does Dearka. We're worried about you, Ken; and you of all people should know that if you let this eat at you this way, you won't be in any shape to fight when the time comes to stop GENESIS."

"That's my lookout," he retorted. "I can deal with my body and mind myself."

"No, you can't," she said firmly. "You're letting this tear you up, and that's bad for all of us. You can't handle this alone, Ken."

He closed his eye. "What are you trying to say, Cagalli? I know there's more to it than that."

Cagalli took a deep breath. "Ken... do you still remember love?"

To her surprise, Ken actually flinched. She'd seen him injured, she'd seen him angry... she'd even seen him happy, once or twice.

She'd never seen him shy away like a wounded animal before.

_Dearka's right,_ Cagalli thought, watching her partner's expression carefully. _The Bloody Valentine hurt him badly... worse than he'll ever admit to anyone._

It was the first time Cagalli had seen the quiet, self-contained ace look frightened. She'd just struck a nerve, jabbed him in a thinly-scabbed wound, and now he literally didn't know how to react.

Cagalli gave him a few moments to digest that, then spoke again. "Did the Bloody Valentine wound you that badly, Ken? Was what happened there really enough for you to cut yourself off from other people? One day, you have to move on..."

"You don't know what happened that day," Ken said quietly, in a voice even he didn't recognize. "No one who wasn't there can understand the true horror of that battle. Even Athrun, who lost his mother there, can't truly comprehend it." He closed his eye. "For me, most of the battle is a blank. My birthplace vanished, she died... and my world shattered to pieces. The next thing I recall is waking up in an Infirmary the next day... with a pain worse than any gunshot wound or sword slash." His mouth tightened. "Time stopped for me that day. It led me down a path I should never have taken... a path that's led to me being exactly what Rau called me: the architect of mankind's end. In a way, Kira's right, you know; it was vengeance that drove me to this path. Vengeance that made me convert GENESIS into a weapon. I... I _wanted_ the Earth Forces to try attacking again; then I could extract a blood price from them for that day..."

"I don't..." she began, but he cut her off.

"I can't move on," Ken said simply. "Not yet. Not until the day arrives that I can atone for what I've done. She'd be very disappointed in me, you know; she never would've wanted me to go to such lengths to avenge her. And until I expunge the sin that her death drove me to, I can't move on. And... I'm scared," he admitted; an admission he would've made to no other person. "Scared that if I care for someone again, the same thing will happen... and the cycle will repeat itself. They say there's a fine line between genius and insanity, and they're right. I am a gifted engineer, Cagalli, with a talent for creating powerful weapons; GENESIS' current form came about as a result of my loss... What might I create... if it happened again?"

This glimpse into Ken's inner thoughts disturbed Cagalli. At least now she knew that he wasn't likely to flip out on them... but he was clearly not in top emotional shape. There were things going on in his mind that no one, perhaps not even a trained psychiatrist, could fully understand.

_He _does_ see this as atonement,_ she realized. _His mission is to defend the PLANTs... but he's also trying to make up for own his past mistakes. And by forcing a final confrontation, he not only brings the war to a quick end... but uses it as a crucible of fire. _A new thought occurred to her, one she wondered that she hadn't considered before._ GENESIS Alpha... if he can destroy that, it's a down payment on his own... penance, I guess. His way of beginning to "atone" for his "sin"._

"There's no way to convince you that you don't need to 'atone' for anything, is there?" she said finally.

"Not unless you can somehow convince me that I wasn't the one who designed GENESIS," Ken answered. "And you can't, because what I did is a fact. What matters now is that I stop my own twisted creation."

"Even if this guilt destroys you before you get anywhere near GENESIS?"

He surprised her with a slight smile. "Don't worry about _that,_ partner. I may be feeling very guilty, but I also like to think I'm an intelligent person. I'm as aware as you are that letting it dominate my thinking, on the battlefield or off, will ruin my chances of getting rid of it for good. It's just... this is something I _need_ to do. That... _thing_ is my creation, and I'll be the one to destroy it... for her sake, as well as mine."

Cagalli nodded thoughtfully; and then, impulsively, hugged the ace. "Just remember that you aren't alone," she whispered to the surprised pilot. "We're your friends, Ken; even Kira, whether he remembers it right now or not. We can help you."

Ken awkwardly returned the embrace. "Thank you... and I _will_ remember it, partner."

* * *

In the end, all Cagalli told Mu and Dearka was that, while they should still keep an eye on him, she didn't expect Ken to lose it completely. She didn't mention anything the ace had told her, though; it was, in her opinion, no one else's business. A very private matter that was his to work out on his own. They could support him, but they couldn't heal him. 

And she especially did not tell Kira. Much as she loved him, she was well aware that, given the dark suspicions he already nursed about Ken's plans, learning how intensely personal the battle was for the ace pilot would only fuel Kira's worry about what Ken might do in the final battle that was fast approaching...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, August 15th, C.E. 71

* * *

It had taken another full day to locate Regenerate's hiding place -and thus, GENESIS Alpha- with any degree of confidence; and another after that for the proposed rendezvous to take place. But now the pieces were all finally beginning to come together... 

"Three ships detected, Captain," Sai reported. "One _Laurasia_-class, broadcasting Serpent Tail codes, the Junk Guild _Cornelius_-class tender, _ReHOME,_ and the Orb warship _Izumo._ They're heading for the rendezvous point as agreed."

Murrue nodded. "Thank you, Sai. Flay, any word?"

The redhead manning Communications nodded. "Yes, Captain. Establishing conference connection now," she added, not waiting for the orders she knew were coming.

The main screen split into thirds, showing faces that Ken, at least, was familiar with. _"I see you've managed to make it here, _Archangel," the black-haired woman in formal robes began. _"Not that I expected any less from your ship."_

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Murrue replied, just a touch wryly. "Lady Rondo Mina Sahaku, I presume? Pardon my... wariness, but..."

Sahaku smiled faintly. _"Yes, I do look rather like him, don't I? And I believe your one meeting with my late brother was... less than pleasant for you. Well, Captain Ramius, I assure you that I now find my brother's attitudes to have been somewhat... flawed. Besides which, we seem to have a mutual enemy at the moment."_

"Indeed we do," Ken agreed, stepping forward. "Enemy of my enemy is my friend, as the saying goes."

_"Yeah,"_ the second figure said in amusement. _"And you're probably the one who said it. You're looking well, Falcon, for a guy who rumor says had his eyes cut out a month or so ago."_

"A temporary inconvenience," the ace said simply, with a gleam of humor in his eye. "How have _you_ been, Lowe?"

_"Busy,"_ Lowe Guele replied briefly. _"You have your war, we have ours; except now they seem to be the same one. By the way, _ReHOME _isn't just here for the operation. Reverend Malchio got in touch with us, and asked us to resupply you. I'm sure you have your sources for that kind of thing, but since we're in the area, and this _is_ the tender ship for your class..."_

"Much appreciated, Mister Guele," Murrue acknowledged. "I'll admit getting supplies isn't the easiest thing to do in our position."

_"Taking on the entire world, and not even getting paid for it,"_ the man in the third image mused. _"Yeah, I can see you'd have problems. Well, I suppose there are times when you have to do things for no profit... though this is a fairly extreme example."_

"Wars tend to be, Mister Murakumo," Ken said dryly. "So do gamma-ray cannons and thirty-five-meter-tall mobile suits."

_"Indeed."_

_"So where is the enemy's base, Captain Ramius?"_ Sahaku asked. _"Have you located it yet?"_

"We think so," Murrue answered. "About six hours' flight time from here, in the wreckage of an old Island-Three colony. The area's fairly stable, at least for the Debris Belt, which makes it an ideal location for a covert base." She tapped her armrest. "The only problem will be getting our ships into there. It may be 'fairly stable', but there's still a lot more debris floating around there than I like to think about."

"The Captain's right," Natarle put in. "The last time the _Archangel_ came through the Belt was bad enough; this could be a nightmare, especially with the number of ships involved."

Sahaku nodded thoughtfully. _"I understand. Well, we can partly alleviate that problem: I'm afraid I can't justify bringing _Izumo_ herself any farther than this. The AMATU, yes, but I can't risk leaving Ame-no-Mihashira completely unguarded, so the ship will have to remain here."_

"I understand," Murrue agreed. "I assume, then, that you'll be hitching a ride with another of the ships on the way in?"

_"We'll be carrying the AMATU with the _ReHOME," Lowe informed her. _"I know it's kinda weird -the last time I saw that machine in combat, it broke my Gerbera Straight- but we can't let that stand between us right now."_

"Agreed." Ken's expression had turned cold. "I'll be transmitting partial data on the original GENESIS; enough to show you potential weak points." His voice hardened. "I'd give you the entire specs, but quite frankly, I find it bad enough that even _one_ complete set exists. I won't take the risk of a hacker obtaining another, and selling the data to someone who could actually make use of it."

_"Understandable,"_ Gai said thoughtfully. _"Possibly overly paranoid, but understandable. You realize, I take it, that the data on the original design may not pertain to this 'GENESIS Alpha'?"_

"Some points of congruity have to exist," the ace said patiently. "They work on the same principle, and this is doubtless derived from my original design. In that case, there are a number of factors which must remain constant, or the machine simply will not work." His eye narrowed. "Remember, all of you: I won't presume to give you orders; I have no authority over you at all. But I will _not_ permit GENESIS Alpha's continued existence. However useful it might potentially be in a non-combat role, the danger it represents is far too great... especially in such close proximity to Earth itself."

_"Understood,"_ Sahaku said simply. _"You're the expert here, Commander DiFalco, and arguably the man with jurisdiction over the matter... particularly if considered in light of the fact that you are, technically, still a ZAFT solider, however... irregular your current status -and operations- may be."_

"Then we're in agreement," Murrue said decisively. "Flay, signal the other ships; Miriallia, have all pilots report to their machines."Her expression hardened with determination. "We're moving out."

* * *

A six hour journey in toward the suspected location of the base... a tedious wait, but one which proved to be worth it in the end. 

"We've found it, Captain," Sai reported with satisfaction. "Definitely standby ECM coming from that wreckage ahead of us; and we're reading radiation traces consistent with what Falcon told us to expect from a GENESIS device. Also, we're detecting power levels consistent with some sort of base."

Murrue nodded. "Which means this 'Regenerate' must be here somewhere." She brought up her right-hand intercom panel. "Ken? We've located GENESIS Alpha; we're ready to proceed."

_"Roger that,"_ Ken replied, from Preybird's cockpit; he looked supremely satisfied to be in the pilot's seat once again. _"Flay, patch me into external radio-"_

"Status change!" Tonomura barked. "Increase in radiation detected; readings consistent with armed nuclear warhead-"

_"Get us out of here!"_ Ken snapped, what could be seen of his face having gone pale. _"GENESIS is about to activate-"_

Before he finished speaking, Neumann wrenched his helm controls, hauling the _Archangel_ around in a hard turn above and to starboard, while _Odin, Eternal,_ and _Kusanagi_ scattered. Murrue felt herself pressed into her seat as the ship came around-

A massive column of energy scorched through the space they'd occupied moments earlier, narrowly missing_ ReHOME_ and Serpent Tail's _Laurasia._ Debris vanished under the bombardment of coherent gamma rays, incinerated by the blast that rivaled a positron cannon's power.

_"That bastard..."_ Ken whispered, actually sounding shaken. _"Whoever fired that shot, I'll kill him..."_

"Later, Ken," Murrue said sharply. "What can you tell me about that shot?"

He took a breath. _"Actually, we have good news. From what I saw of it from here, that beam wasn't quite what I was expecting; GENESIS Alpha is clearly much smaller than the original design."_

_"If that was small,"_ Halberton said from the _Odin, "I don't think I want to meet its big brother. What now?"_

Natarle was the one who answered that. "Murrue, I think this battle is one for the mobile suits; the ships stand too much chance of being destroyed by that gamma ray cannon. I say we deploy our machines and retreat to a safe distance."

_"Concur,"_ Ken said at once. _"This isn't like Zantetsuken; and this is the Debris Belt. Mobile suits will have a better chance of navigating through this mess, and we also should be able to dodge GENESIS Alpha's attacks with fair ease."_ He paused. _"Keep our mass-produced units out of this; I don't like the idea of pitting Astrays or even GuAIZs against GENESIS or Regenerate. Or any form of Strike Dagger, Lewis, save Lieutenant Chevalier's Gunbarrel-equipped unit."_

"He's right," Murrue agreed. "Admiral?"

_"Yes, I agree,"_ Halberton murmured. _"All right; we'll send out Morgan, then withdraw. _Kusanagi, Eternal, _I suggest you get clear entirely."_

_"We could help with the METEOR units-"_ Lacus began, on _Eternal_'s Bridge; surprisingly, it was Kira who cut her off.

_"No, Lacus; I think we should keep that capability in reserve for now. Besides, there's too much debris around here. We might suck it into an engine or something."_

_"Probably true," _Lowe concurred from _ReHOME._ _"Leave this to us, Miss Lacus; we can take care of it."_ His usually cheerful face had a positively savage expression on it now. _"I owe that bastard in the Regenerate... and I intend to make sure he collects."_

Ken raised an eyebrow at the response, but said nothing, instead turning to other matter. _"As I was saying before, Flay, please patch me into external communications."_

Flay nodded. "Right away, Falcon."

As soon as the connection was established, Ken gazed into his own displays. _"Attention, ZAFT forces stationed at the GENESIS Alpha facility. This is Commander Kenneth DiFalco, formerly of ZAFT Special Forces. What are you doing, and why did you fire without provocation? Answer me!"_

Murrue leaned back, wondering exactly what he was up to. _Trying to confuse them? Might work; ZAFT's never been entirely sure what to think of his desertion..._

The voice that answered the ace's challenge, however, was not at all encouraging. _"You think the questions of a traitor matter any to me?"_ the mocking voice said. _"Not that I mind that you turned, DiFalco; just gives me even more excuse to kill as many of you as I can!"_

In his cockpit, Ken visibly stiffened. _"I know that voice,"_ he hissed. _"Ash Gray... I'm stunned even Patrick would've let a psychopath like you remain in ZAFT. You should've been executed years ago."_

_"Sometimes Chairman Zala likes having a guy like me around,"_ Ash Gray replied. _"Sometimes even he appreciates someone who just wants to kill..."_

_"Flay, cut transmission,"_ Ken snapped angrily. _"Murrue, we're launching immediately."_

Murrue nodded, though more than a little confused by the byplay between the pilots. "All right, Ken, but... who _is_ that?"

_"Just what I called him: a psychopath. I ran into him years ago, and he seems to be just as deranged now as he was then; a cheerful, crazed murderer who keeps a collection of dolls, one for each person he kills..."_

She shuddered... and understood the pilot's fury. If there was one thing Ken DiFalco hated, it was a blotch on ZAFT's honor. A blotch that also happened to be a murderer... _So, Ken... you _do_ have some human urges in there... like revenge. I only wish we could help you._

"All right, Ken. Go get him."

* * *

Debris Belt, GENESIS Alpha

* * *

From three vessels, mobile suits poured out into space. Freedom and Justice took the lead off the _Archangel_'s flight decks, while the Astray Red Frame and Gold Frame AMATU lifted off from the _ReHOME,_ along with the Blue Frame in Second L configuration from the Serpent Tail's frigate. They took point, spearing toward GENESIS Alpha itself, while Strike and Hyperion launched from _Archangel,_ then Duel and Buster, Strike Rouge... and finally ZGMF-X00A Preybird. 

Ken's cold anger at the circumstances of the battle was leavened somewhat by the pleasure he derived from being back in the cockpit at last. He'd been too long away, waiting for his eyes to regenerate... and now he was back where he belonged, on the field of battle.

Preybird wasn't carrying quite the usual weaponry as it set out; this time, its pilot had deemed it wise to have a more powerful long arm, and so did not carry its standard Talon beam rifles. Instead, another weapon Tom Delaney had constructed since True ZAFT came together was held in both the mobile suit's massive hands: a powerful plasma rifle, with energy output comparable with an Agni hyper-impulse cannon. The Grimaldi Falcon wanted Ash Gray dead, and he was intent on accomplishing it by any means necessary.

_This isn't what I've been fighting for all this time,_ he thought angrily, boosting toward the area he knew Regenerate would be coming from. _I haven't fought this hard, spilled so much blood, just for some murdering bastard like Gray to run amuck and tarnish what little reputation ZAFT still has!_

"What's the plan, Falcon?" Mu called, moving cautiously toward the ZAFT base; for this operation, the Strike was in Aile mode, as there was enough debris about to potentially entangle gunbarrels.

"I want you, Sophia, Dearka, and Yzak to go for GENESIS Alpha," the ace replied, gaze never wavering from his own course. "You've got the partial specs in your targeting computers; it'll probably take massed fire to break through. The rest of you, we'd best be on the lookout for Regenerate. I don't know what that thing can do, but-"

"Incoming fire!" Sophia snapped, fleeing Hyperion to one side as beams erupted from behind a nearby chunk of debris. "Mobile suits hidden in a Mirage Colloid field-"

Two dozen GuAIZs now blazed toward them, firing their beam rifles toward the contingent heading for GENESIS Alpha... and behind them was a huge, purple mobile suit, in mobile armor form, looking remarkably like a warped, overgrown version of the old Aegis.

"I see you, DiFalco," Gray said hungrily. "You'll make a fine kill... now _die!"_

"We'll handle the GuAIZs," Mu said hurriedly, "and try to get to GENESIS Alpha. Falcon, he's all yours; leave the rest to us."

"He's right, Falcon," Kira agreed. "We can handle Regenerate."

Ken nodded, face now a mask. "Yes. Let's take him."

The battle dissolved into chaos, with most of True ZAFT's G-weapons vanishing into a tangle of GuAIZs, while Preybird, Freedom, Justice, and the three Astray prototypes made for Regenerate itself. It should've been a one-sided battle... but battle is seldom that simple.

Ash Gray hadn't been picked for his position for no reason; if he hadn't been good, ZAFT itself would've executed him long before. So when he saw no fewer than three nuclear power machines headed his way -all of them earlier models than his own, but very deadly nonetheless- as well as the Astray prototypes he'd faced before, he sent a single command to his base... and another burst of gamma radiation scorched through space.

Ken swallowed a curse as Regenerate caught the beam on its rear panels, turning the deadly emissions into sheer speed. As the enemy unit blazed through his own formation, he boosted Preybird to the side, raised the plasma rifle, and sent a scorching blast toward Regenerate.

Still riding that incredible speed, Gray twitched aside, allowing the blast to blaze harmlessly past. "Pathetic, DiFalco," he crowed, and converted his machine to a bizarre, four-legged attack mode... complete with a very large rifle of his own. "Take this!"

The retaliatory attack had come faster than Ken had anticipated, and his plasma rifle was smashed away before he could attempt defensive maneuvers. "Bastard," he hissed to himself, and hit several controls on his main panel, just as a second, and even a third high-energy beam streaked toward him.

"Ken!" Kira shouted in horror, seeing Preybird vanish in a maelstrom of fire and warped energy. _"Ken-!"_

Gray smiled insanely within his cockpit. "So much for the famed Grimaldi Falcon," he said in exaltation. "The reality was no match for the legend after all!"

"Wanna bet?"

Regenerate's pilot blinked, for out of the blaze of glory came Preybird, all ten wings spread... and the distinctive multifaceted sphere of a full light-wave barrier just beginning to fade from around it. Now a buckler-style shield came to life on its left arm, while the right hand held an ignited beam saber.

"Bastard!" Gray screamed, completely losing control of everything but his machine. Enraged by his target's inexplicable survival, he shifted Regenerate back to its mobile suit form, ignited both arm-mounted beam sabers, and struck back against the ace's machine.

Regenerate's size made of for its relative lack of agility, and the blows struck hard. Preybird's saber spun out into space from the force of the attack, and while the light-wave barrier protected the machine itself, sheer inertia shoved Ken backwards, tumbling out of control.

"Falcon!" Kira called, and dove in, followed by the AMATU. He brought up Freedom's specialized targeting computer, locked on, and opened up with all his weapons, pouring laser fire, plasma bolts, and rail cannon projectiles at Regenerate.

Gray flinched as one of the plasma bolts tore a gouge in one of his machine's arms... and then a concentrated barrage blew the entire left arm away. Yet, inexplicably, he smiled. "Don't think you've won this," he said mockingly. "That's nothing!" Converting back to mobile armor mode, he shot away, ducking out of sight behind the same piece of debris that had helped hide the ambushing GuAIZs.

"Where's he going?" Athrun muttered darkly. "I don't like the looks of this... he shouldn't have sounded that confident."

"I think I know," Lowe said grimly. "When I fought him before, he kept replacing damaged parts; he'll be back in a minute, with a new arm. If we're gonna take this guy, we have to figure out how to stop him from repairing himself all the time."

Gai smiled slowly. "Leave that to me," he advised. "I've got an idea... Commander La Flaga," he called, "cover me; I need to reach that base."

"Roger that," Mu answered, as his own beam saber burned through to the core of a GuAIZ. "We'll do what we can."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Murrue watched the melee with unease. Her ship was unable to intervene in this battle, and she wasn't happy about it; their mobile suits were clearly having difficulty, and if thy lost any now, before they ever got to Jachin Due... 

"They'll be fine," Alicia Cateau opined. "Commander DiFalco might be going for a loop right now, but look at it this way: this Ash Gray fellow is greatly outnumbered, and even GENESIS Alpha won't save him from these kinds of numbers."

"I suppose you're right," Murrue said with a sigh. "But I can't help worrying; after all, I'm not a mobile suit pilot, so I don't even exactly understand what's going on out there. I'll have to take your word for it, I guess." She glanced sidelong at the defector. "By the way... why _is_ it that you haven't flown anything since your capture?"

Cateau shrugged. "For one thing, I'm more useful as an advisor; and for another, there isn't anything for me _to _fly. What was left of Cobra was left behind in Orb, and subsequently nuked, and I'm not exactly inclined to take up any sort of mass-produced unit. The Earth Alliance would happily kill me, after all, and I'm not inclined to risk my own death quite that blatantly, especially when there's little I could contribute to the battle in any case."

_Archangel_'s Captain nodded. "I guess you're right; and Ken certainly values your input. I don't think he's ever been able to think quite like the current Earth Forces leadership."

"Unsurprising; they're not quite the same as the people he out-thought at Nova. Since that time, Blue Cosmos' agents have gained ever more control-"

"Status change, Captain," Sai interrupted. "Increase in ECM and ECCM; N-jammer levels rising."

Murrue clenched a fist. "Let me guess: they're trying to cut off our communications, just like the Earth Forces did in Zantetsuken."

"Looks that way. The protocols _Odin_ sent us seem to be somewhat effective here, but there's still going to be interference..."

"Regenerate is coming back," Tonomura cut in. "With a new arm."

She closed her eyes. _So. Here they go again. Be careful, Ken..._

* * *

Debris Belt, GENESIS Alpha

* * *

Ken finally regained control of his tumbling mobile suit just as Regenerate came charging back into the fight, firing its massive rifle. Not a moment too soon, he kicked Preybird into a cartwheel to his right, his own rail cannons pelting Gray's machine. 

"Pathetic," the psychopath sneered, ignoring the projectiles. "I have to wonder how you got such a fearsome reputation, DiFalco, when you're obviously so _stupid!"_

"By having skilled comrades," Rondo Mina Sahaku informed him, appearing out of Mirage Colloid and opening up with the AMATU's Trikeros system. "And by never giving up, I expect."

Gray cursed harshly as an emerald dart creased Regenerate's chest. "You want to play, girl? I'm game. Now die!" He raised his rifle, aimed precisely, and fired in one swift motion.

Sahaku tried to veer away, but Gray hadn't been picked for his job for a lack of skill; the energy discharge caught AMATU through both legs, raging through control systems, power distribution cables... physical connections between limb and torso.

AMATU fell away, sparking from the stumps of its legs. Sahaku didn't dare even attempt to fire after that; given the damage that had been inflicted, she didn't trust her machine not to explode if energy were diverted through the wrong circuits.

"Sorry, DiFalco," she called. "The rest is up to you. I have to retreat for now." Her voice hardened. "Don't let him get away with attacking an Orb noble that way."

Ken permitted himself a thin smile. "Don't worry, Lady Sahaku. I have no intention of letting him live; as they say, chivalry is only reasonably dead."

In the Red Frame's cockpit, Lowe Guele blinked. _Ken DiFalco, cracking a joke? I guess anything's possible... _Shaking himself, he charged in, swinging his own Gerbera Straight... one which Ken was not familiar with, and hadn't had the time to notice before.

The ace blinked. "Is that thing as big as I think it is?"

"Looks that way," Athrun told him, throwing Justice out of the path of the massive sword... which appeared to be a full one hundred fifty meters long. "I just didn't know a mobile suit could handle a weapon that big."

"It couldn't, at first," Lowe admitted, as his blade missed the ever-alert Gray. "A guy named Jean Carrey helped me outfit the Red Frame with a new set of arms for it; which is good, 'cause this bastard about wrecked the Power Loader the last time we met."

"And now I'll finish the job," Gray hissed. "Die!"

Ken shook his head, as the Red Frame spun away from the energy blast. "Is 'die' your favorite word or something, Gray? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, coming from a psychopath like you." he turned his attention to the melee involving the GuAIZs, and noted that the enemies there had been reduced by about half... and somewhere in the middle of it, Duel and Buster had disappeared. "Yzak? Dearka? Where are you-"

"Look out, Falcon!" Athrun warned. "Regenerate's cockpit just detached somehow; he's heading your way-"

Ken's attention snapped back to the battle at hand, just as something impacted the rear of his machine, between the two sets of wings. "Gray?" he barked. "What are you- What's going on?" Red warning messages flashed across his displays, and now nothing he told the controls to convey to the machine actually happened. "What did you do, Gray?"

The psychopathic pilot laughed. "A lot you've still got to learn, DiFalco; I guess your spy buddies didn't know Regenerate can take over any mobile suit it can get hold of, huh? Well, now watch while I kill your friends with your own machine..."

"And how, exactly, do you plan to do _that?"_ Ken questioned, eye narrow. "Kira can stop Preybird if he has to; certainly he can with _you_ in control."

"Not if he doesn't have the chance." Gray laughed again, insanely. "I've seen the battle data; I know your big, bad positron cannon is powered by energy received by those wings. Well, it's time for a little overcharge. GENESIS Alpha, prepare to fire!"

The ace felt his blood run cold, especially when he saw where Gray was pointing his machine now. _The _Archangel_! That bastard's planning to kill them all..._

He keyed his radio again; about the only thing still under his control. "Kira," he said in a tightly controlled voice, "you have only one option now... and you're the only one who can do it."

Kira's mouth went dry. There was something about that tone he didn't like... "What is it, Falcon?"

Ken's eye closed. "You have no choice... but to target all weapons on my machine." The eye opened again, and he met Kira's gaze on his communications display. "You'll have to destroy Preybird... and me with it."

* * *

Dearka had heard the transmissions following Regenerate's surprising maneuver, and instantly knew two things: one, Kira would never accept Ken's instruction; he refused to kill even the enemy under any but the most dire circumstances. Killing a friend -no matter their personal differences at the moment- would be out of the question, as far as he was concerned. 

And two: that mean Dearka would have to do something about GENESIS Alpha himself, before a third burst of coherent gamma radiation could be fired.

"It's up to us, Yzak," he called to his comrade, as they dove in toward the weapons' installation. "If we can't stop that thing before it fires..."

"I know," Yzak replied shortly. "If we don't stop it, we lose either the Commander or the _Archangel,_ and losing either would be a big problem. C'mon, Dearka, let's finish this."

The two of them had blown through the rapidly ending melee as though it hadn't existed, allowing their fellows to finish off the GuAIZs, which had been nothing more than an irritant to begin with; now they flew straight toward the ZAFT base that housed GENESIS Alpha. Gai Murakumo was already there, doing something underhanded to what Dearka presumed to be the area that stored spare parts for the Regenerate, but their objective was deeper within... a specific place near the core of the unit.

"One thing I don't understand, though," Yzak remarked. "I thought Commander DiFalco said something about alignment mirrors needing to be replaced after each shot; and that it would take hours to do it. How could they be firing so fast?"

"That was the full-scale GENESIS he was talking about, Yzak," Dearka reminded him. "Alpha's smaller; the alignment mirrors probably don't take as long to replace. Anyway, does it really matter _how_ they're doing it? We can figure that out later."

"Yeah," Duel's pilot agreed gruffly. "You're right. Hey, is that the access hatch? Looks too well-armored to break through with beam rifles..."

Dearka smiled thinly. "Leave _that_ to me, Yzak." Woking with the ease of long practice, he snapped Buster's rifle and gun launcher together, forming its right-handed combination, and pointed it at the armored hatch. "Take this!" He squeezed the trigger, unleashing a torrent of hyper-impulse fire from the weapon directly into the hatch... and armor which had never been intended to stand up to such a barrage began to melt, then rupture...

* * *

Kira stared at the Preybird, appalled by the notion Ken had just suggested. "You're asking me to kill you?" he said in a hoarse whisper. "Are you out of your mind?" 

"No," Ken said flatly, forcing himself not to think about those on the _Archangel_'s Bridge were making of the situation. "Better that you stop this maniac now, before we lose _Archangel,_ then have me survive but the ship be destroyed."

Kira clenched his hands on his controls. "I can't do it, Falcon. I..."

"You have to. You may lose Preybird, and with it your best chance of stopping GENESIS, but I won't have you saving my sorry life if it means losing everyone aboard _Archangel."_ Ken's voice hardened. "That ship means more to this effort than even the knowledge in my brain, Kira, and we are running out of time!"

"How touching," Ash Gray said mockingly. "Trying to sacrifice yourself to save your comrades; and here I thought you weren't that soft, DiFalco. Not that it matters. You buddy's so soft he couldn't hurt a fly..." He laughed. "GENESIS Alpha... fire!"

Within the powerful weapon, a fresh nuclear cartridge was loaded into place, the detonation sequence began... and a beam rifle, hyper-impulse sniper rifle, railgun, and three separate missile pods poured fire into the side of the firing chamber.

The blast, when it came, was nowhere near the proper alignment; the barrage from the weapon's interior had, within fractions of a second, _warped_ the emitter bore, causing the beam to fire at a slight but noticeable angle... so when it emerged and struck the alignment mirror, it reflected back at an imperfect angle, ripping back into the mechanism instead of reflecting again into space.

As Duel and Buster flashed out of the explosion, Ash Gray's face took on an expression of enraged shock. "What just happ-"

He never finished the sentence.

The Strike Rouge, also in Aile configuration to better deal with phase-shift, drove a beam saber through the back of Regenerate's detached cockpit. "Now _you're_ the one to die, you monster," Cagalli hissed, her blade melting through cockpit wall and pilot alike. _"Nobody_ does that to my partner."

Within Preybird's cockpit, most of the warning messages -save for those alerting him to the presence of a certain anomalous mass between its wings- vanished, control was restored... and Ken let out a heartfelt sigh, sagging into his seat. "Thanks, Cagalli," he said quietly. "I owe you."

"I'll collect, too," she said flippantly. "But you're welcome."

By now, the GuAIZ units had also been dealt with, by the ever-efficient -and lethal- pilots from _Archangel,_ and the remaining machines came to join them. "I guess I didn't need to blow up that stash of parts after all," Gai said, almost mournfully. "I just wasted some bullets; that'll come out of my next paycheck..."

"At least you'll be around to _have_ a next paycheck," Athrun said dryly. "By the way, Dearka, you and Yzak did some good work."

"We had incentive," Dearka said with a shrug.

"And it wasn't exactly hard," Yzak said disdainfully. "Fly in, blow up a few things, and everybody's happy, right? No problem."

_No problem, the man says,_ Ken thought wearily. _Well, I owe them one. It was my responsibility... but I proved pretty useless this time out._ He shook his head. _At least I can be fairly sure I won't be distracted when ut's time to take out the _real_ GENESIS..._

"Archangel_ to Preybird,"_ Murrue called. _"Is everything all right out there now?"_

"I'm fine, Murrue," he replied promptly. "A little tired, but fine. What's the status of the ZAFT base?"

She grimaced. _"Rapidly going to pieces. We'll try to recover any escape pods, but that mis-aimed blast from GENESIS Alpha seems to have torn the place apart. I think we can safely say ZAFT won't be using this place again... and neither will anyone else."_ She tilted her head. _"Are you fit to return to the ship, Ken?"_

Ken nodded. "Yeah." He glanced over at the Freedom, and felt a twinge of unease. "Kira? Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm fine, Falcon," Kira replied, an odd note in his voice. "Just fine." Freedom turned toward the _Archangel_. "Let's go home..."

"Yeah..."

* * *

Author's note: GENESIS Alpha is gone, and Ash Gray and his Regenerate with it. Now conditions are ripe for the final stage of Ken DiFalco's Shiva Option; now the Second Battle of Jachin Due is only a matter of time... 

Okay, I know this chapter took a little while, and I realize it may be a little slow, with a little too much filler. Well, fear not; this is the last that will be like that. Now the final curtain has risen, and the three-chapter grand finale is up next. I promise, the coup de grace will be anything but boring... but for now, let me know how _this_ chapter was, please. -Solid Shark


	43. Chapter 43: Divisive Fire

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

I also do not own the _Odin;_ it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

Gray Demon Eyrie, September 20th, C.E. 71

* * *

Two months. It had been over two months now since True ZAFT's operations had begun in earnest; yet it had only taken perhaps a month of active operations to get as far as they could on their own. With the fall of GENESIS Alpha, it seemed as though offensive operations on both sides had come to a sudden halt, as though they were waiting for something... 

Ken, like the other leaders of the group, was privately certain he knew what was going on. Patrick Zala had most likely blamed the loss of the GENESIS Alpha facility on the Earth Forces, making use of his sworn enemy -and former trusted confidant- to help arrange his own solution to the conflict. Meanwhile, Muruta Azrael and the Earth Alliance forces had evidently decided that the "Butcher Bird" and his forces weren't worth wasting attention and resources on; now he seemed to be preparing for an all-out attack against the PLANTs.

There would be one obstacle to their advance: the asteroid fortress Boaz, formerly known as the resource satellite Nova, which Ken himself had taken away from the Republic of East Asia. Functioning as the gateway to the PLANTs, it would remain a formidable adversary for any force sent against it.

Meanwhile, True ZAFT had finally reunited on the dark side of the Moon, at the remains of the former Gray Demon base on the Grimaldi Front. During the time _Archangel, Kusanagi, _and_ Eternal_ -and later the _Odin-_ had been softening up both sides' military potential, the crews of _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_ had been hard at work, preparing the old base for reoccupation; now the fruits of their labor had paid off, and the six vessels met for what all suspected would be the final respite before the end.

"They'll have little choice but to nuke Boaz," Ken said thoughtfully, peering at a display in the Eyrie's old war room. "The PLANTs themselves can -theoretically- be taken by conventional force, but not as long as both asteroid fortresses are in the way. Boaz has to go first, since it's an easier target, relatively speaking. Then, either Jachin Due... or GENESIS, if Azrael discovers its existence in time."

"I think you're right," Andrew Waltfeld, their other strategic genius, agreed. "Soon, you think?"

Ken nodded. "If you want my profession estimate, I think they'll set out in no more than a couple of days... and they're closer to L5 than we are right now. This is our last council of war, ladies and gentlemen; the Shiva Option is about to be executed whether we like it or not... whether we're ready or not."

"Then we'd better make sure we _are_ ready," Lewis Halberton declared. "I don't know about making sure that the PLANTs have overall victory, Falcon, but I agree it's up to us to stop all this before it results in a catastrophe."

"But what happens if we succeed," Murrue worried, "but don't survive the experience ourselves? I'm not afraid to die for this goal, but little good it does us if we can't even make sure what we do works."

Ken nodded at their resident politicians, Siegel Clyne and Yuri Amalfi. "That's why I want the two of them to remain here during the fighting. No offense, Chairman, but I doubt you would have much to contribute to a space battle."

Clyne nodded ruefully. "That's true, Commander. My area is politics; I'll leave the fighting to those who are qualified."

"Agreed," Amalfi said quietly. "I'll leave that to my son." He hesitated. "No offense, Commander, but could you...?"

"I'll do my best to keep Nicol out of trouble," Ken assured him. "Though to be perfectly honest, I don't think he'll need much help. Not only is he a fine pilot himself, but his Raiden is equipped with Mirage Colloid... and the enemy cannot fight what it cannot see."

"There will be work enough, and dangers enough for us all," Ledonir Kisaka cautioned. "The path we have chosen is not an easy one; and at Jachin Due, we will be facing the very best on both sides. If we do not use every resource available to us, and every ounce of strength and cunning we posses, we will not succeed in the task we've set for ourselves."

"Well said, Captain Kisaka," Sparky Cooper said approvingly. "Well said indeed. I don't think we need fear too much that we'll become overconfident; we've all known the risks for months, some of us for a year now. We're all aware that this battle will be the last... and so, of course, the most difficult."

"Right," Tom Delaney concurred. "This is the moment we've been preparing for... the final mission for which we've sacrificed so much."

Murrue glanced at him in amusement. "You're not normally that much of a poet, Tom. Are you sure you're not running a fever?"

The engineer-captain of _Asmodeus_ grinned. "Lost causes and hopeless battles bring out the best in me, Murrue; just look at the job my boys and I did building Preybird."

"Braggart," Aisha murmured tolerantly.

Waltfeld cleared his throat. "Getting back to the matter at hand," he said pointedly, "we need to decide exactly what we're doing here." His one-eyed gaze swept the room. "Are we trying to cripple the ability of both sides to wage war, or are we trying to accomplish a more limited objective? Do we target the two fleets and their mobile weapons, or the space fortresses and GENESIS itself?"

Ken closed his eye in thought. "GENESIS is a target regardless," he said slowly. "That weapon could too easily change a truce into a massacre. Boaz... Boaz is likely going to be a nonissue as far as we're concerned; if we can stop the Earth Forces from blowing it up, I'll be much surprised. Jachin..." He trailed off, thinking.

"I hesitate to bring this up," Natarle began slowly, "but... you still have agents within the PLANTs, right, Falcon?"

"Yeah," the ace acknowledged. "Some of them are guarding Representative Amalfi's wife, and I've got a few in more sensitive locations, too. Why?"

"Well... what if we were able to decapitate the ZAFT chain of command before the battle even began? If ZAFT's forces were disorganized..."

Sparky shook his head. "No, Natarle," he rumbled. "Like we told you before, the objective is _not_ a coup d'etat. If it were, we could've done it months ago. No, we have no interest in taking control of the PLANTs... and it would be bloody stupid to do it at this juncture, anyway. We take out Patrick, and the Earth Forces have free reign until we rein in the chaos. Oh, a few ZAFT commanders will have the brains and initiative to fight them off in a few places, but without a unified command structure, some of the Earth Forces nukes _will_ get through to the PLANTs... and with the average population those hourglasses have, the casualties would probably be worse than the Bloody Valentine."

Natarle winced. "Right; I knew that."

"Don't feel bad, Natarle," Ken advised her. "I assure you, the same thought occurred to me more than once during the long journey to reach this point; but the same objections Sparky just outlined always killed the notion. No, we're going to have to do this the hard way, whether we like it or not."

"So how _do_ we start, Falcon?" Halberton asked quietly.

The ace rubbed his eyepatch in thought. "The first thing we do is take out the Earth Forces' nuclear-equipped squadrons; Alicia tells me the nukes will probably be carried by several squadrons of Moebius units, collectively known as the 'Peacemaker Force'." He grimaced. "'Peacemaker Force'. What a misleading name, considering that their intent is to make war, not peace." He shook himself. "In any case, our first priority is to ensure that none of the nuclear-tipped missiles reach the PLANTs."

Murrue nodded. "If we can do that, we subtract the nuclear threat from the equation; that'll just leave conventional forces... and GENESIS. Then what? Take out Jachin Due itself, and GENESIS' control systems with it?"

Ken shook his head. "No. I'll grant that doing that would probably end the GENESIS threat, at least long enough for us to end the battle and then dismantle the cursed machine, since the device's local control -given that the unit is usually unmanned- tends to be highly efficient. The problem, however, is that nothing we have could destroy Jachin itself. It would take a full-on ramming attack by one of our capital ships to accomplish that feat, and I will _not_ send men out to die in a suicide mission." He clenched a fist. "No, Jachin will have to be dealt with in another way; leave GENESIS itself to me."

Haring that tone, most of the room's occupants backed off a pace, carefully looking elsewhere and pretending they'd momentarily gone deaf, and Murrue leaned toward the pilot. "Ken," she said quietly, "are you sure this isn't turning into an obsession for you?"

His eye narrowed. "I admitted a long time ago that I was obsessed, Murrue," he said, equally quietly. "I will freely grant that this is no longer entirely about protecting the PLANTs. The genie is out of the bottle; no matter what we do now, no matter that both existing GENESIS units will be destroyed, another _will_ be built again."

"Then what's the point?" she asked; not scornfully, but genuinely wanting to know. "What's so important to you about destroying _this_ one, if more can -and will, someday- be built?"

"The point... is that only in this can I redeem myself." Ken sighed. "Murrue, the difference between this unit and GENESIS Alpha, and any units to follow, is that _I_ built it. This unit was specifically constructed for the purpose of carrying _my_ plan, and _I_ was the one in charge of construction. It was my desire for revenge that brought about its creation, and so only in its destruction can I find redemption. Not in revenge, but in atonement... no matter what the cost to myself."

Murrue's gaze sharpened. "You'd better not be thinking what I think you're thinking, Ken. We may all be expendable, but that's not the same as throwing your own life away for one final moment of redemption." She lowered her voice. "What good is redemption if you're not around for it?"

He raised a hand. "I'm well aware of that, Murrue, and believe me, I have no intention of getting myself killed if I can avoid it. But GENESIS' destruction _would_ be worth my life, if it came down to it... and, as I said, it's my responsibility... and I'm the only one who can do it anyway." He lifted an eyebrow. "Unless you think someone _else_ knows Preybird well enough to accomplish the objective?"

Aisha cleared her throat. "Correct me if I'm wrong," she said carefully, "but phase-shift armor isn't invincible, right? So why not just pound GENESIS into scrap with shipboard weapons?"

Ken shook his head. "We've been over that, too, Aisha. According to what we've learned, the completed unit is equipped with _multiple_ layers of PSA; and PSA is capable of resisting even a positron cannon, if placed in sufficient density. Yes, our six ships could eventually break through, but the odds against having the time to do it that way are astronomical."

"Ken's right," Murrue said unhappily. "We're just going over the same territory we've covered time and again over the past two months. Well, we don't have the time to debate this anymore. We have only days left now, before the fighting starts; we have to make the most of it."

The eleven people in that room took several moments to think about that in silence. They truly had come a long way, these past nine months... longer, really for some. Ken DiFalco had been on the sharp end since the blockade, two years before; he'd been through the Bloody Valentine, Yggdrasil, First Jachin, Endymion, and Nova, before ever dreaming of allying himself with his erstwhile enemy, Mu La Flaga, the Hawk of Endymion. He'd treaded a path that had torn at his very sanity, fighting a shadow war his comrades hadn't understood until they, too, were betrayed, and threw themselves into his wild gamble.

Sparky Cooper and Tom Delaney had long gone with their boss, joining him around the time of Jachin Due and sticking with him through the Grimaldi Front, Nova, and even the betrayal of ZAFT, acting as agents within the organization they no longer trusted. Loyalty to their commander had carried them this far; loyalty would see them through to the end of it.

Andrew Waltfeld and Aisha had begun this as ZAFT soldiers themselves, fighting to keep the Libyan desert under control. They'd succeeded admirably, until the day they met their match in battle against the might of the _Archangel_ and the wits of Ken DiFalco; that had put them on the road to joining the Clyne Faction, and from there the "traitorous" splinter faction known as True ZAFT. Along the way, Waltfeld had lost an arm and an eye, and Aisha now bore a scar on her face, but they regretted none of it. Better to pay the price in physical pain than tainted honor.

Siegel Clyne, for his part, had suspected long before Operation Spit Break that he would eventually break with his old friend Patrick Zala. The hardline attitude the man had taken after the Bloody Valentine had become increasingly worrisome; the actions of Clyne and his followers had been inevitable, and had led them into collusion with the masters of deception, the former Gray Demons.

Yuri Amalfi had come to this path entirely unprepared. First he'd learned of his son's "death" on Earth, which had briefly led him into Zala's radical faction; then Nicol had turned up alive, in the company of the "traitors" following Ken DiFalco. Upon learning of the GENESIS device and Zala's intended use for it, Amalfi had waited only until True ZAFT had been ready to move out to break with current Supreme Council. Now he supported his son to the hilt, in the hope that True ZAFT's victory would protect them both... and his wife, still in hiding in the PLANTs.

Ledonir Kisaka had begun this as a colonel in the Orb Ground Forces, acting as a bodyguard for the heir of his nation, while at the same time helping to defend his hometown of Tassil. With Orb's stubborn neutrality, he'd scarce believed that he might become involved in the larger war; discovering that his nation's leader, Uzumi Nara Athha, had been in discussions with the ZAFT desert Ken DiFalco had come as a profound surprise... until he learned what they had already known, and realized that Orb would inevitably be drawn into the conflict as well. When the Earth Forces attacked Orb with nuclear weapons, his cooperation with the True ZAFT forces, through the command of the_ Kusanagi,_ had been wholehearted.

Lewis Halberton had, for all his sympathy toward the PLANTs and his friendship with the Grimaldi Falcon, been a loyal supporter of the Earth Alliance Forces for all his adult life. The bombing of Copernicus had raised quiet doubts -he found it difficult to believe that the forces Ken served would do such a thing, when the last thing they wanted was war- but he had remained steadfast in the performance of his duty... until the day his ship was destroyed beneath him, and he was rescued by a crew of Earth Forces deserters with proof of what really at Copernicus... and the influence Blue Cosmos held in the highest levels of both the Earth Alliance military and provisional government. From then on, his only desire was to end the war, and uniting with his young friend's forces had been the best way to do it.

Natarle Badgiruel came from a military family, who had served the Atlantic Federation -and the former United States before it- for generations. For her, duty, and strict obedience to The Book, was as a natural as breathing; treason was unthinkable to her. She followed orders, fought brilliantly, and remained utterly committed to Earth Alliance victory... until the day they broke faith with her, tried to destroy her and her crewmates in a bid to kill as many of the "unnatural" Coordinators as possible. To someone for whom treachery was the greatest sin, and who had spent enough time with the gentle, open Kira Yamato to know the folly of unthinking hatred, that was intolerable, and she had gladly turned her formidable talents to the downfall of her former nation.

And Murrue Ramius... the day this had all begun, she'd been a senior-grade lieutenant, suddenly thrust into command of the entire ship by the wholesale slaughter of the command crew. She'd been the one to lead _Archangel_ during the long race to the Eighth Fleet, the battles against ZAFT in the desert, the ocean voyage to Orb... and finally the journey to Alaska, whereupon she'd been forced to make her own choice, between loyalty to her crew and loyalty to her nation.

But, as Ken had said at the time, the Earth Forces no longer had any claim on her loyalty when they chose to throw her and her crew away as mere _bait_ for a trap, when they broke faith with her. Oaths cut both ways, and if Headquarters chose to sever their half, Murrue Ramius was likewise freed of obligation.

_A long path we've taken, to reach this point,_ Murrue thought in the silence. _Much of the path was directed, however subtly, by Ken; and yet no matter his manipulations, I still walked into it of my own free will. He showed the path, but he was content to let us make our choice, whether or not to proceed... and it was I who led _Archangel _to this point. And would do so again, with or without the knowledge I now have of the workings behind the scenes of this conflict. About the only thing I might've done different, knowing what I do now, would be to join his conspiracy earlier..._

She frowned inwardly, considering that. _Yes, I'd do it again... but would it entirely be reason guiding me? There's no denying that, for all his effort to maintain an outwardly cold demeanor, Ken has charisma; not only can he plan, but he can _lead,_ a less common and infinitely more valuable talent. And... there's no denying what I _feel,_ either._

For a long time, she'd tried to exactly that; and succeeded so well she wasn't even aware she felt it in the first place. Murrue had, of course, known Ken for some years. His older sister had been a close friend of hers since they attended the Atlantic Federation military academy together, and while on leave she'd met the young man several times. Back then, she'd seen only a reserved scholar, quiet but cheerful, training in engineering and the martial arts. When they'd met again, at Heliopolis, that was how Murrue remembered him; it had taken her a long time to reconcile her past image with the cold, calculating ZAFT ace she knew now. Cold, yet charismatic; calculating, yet occasionally capable of spur of the moment decisions, with long-term consequences... one of which had been to join the _Archangel_ rather than blow it out of space. All because he had a hunch that it might fit in with his grand scheme to end the war...

And now? After months of living, working, and fighting on the same ship, Murrue had rekindled her years-past friendship with Ken, and indeed become one of the few who could name him as a _close_ friend. Even when he maintained his basilisk act, she could read his emotions with startling accuracy; she frequently knew what he was thinking almost before he did. And beneath it all, she knew that within that cold shell, locked away behind barriers of a strength greater than any metal, lay a wounded young man who but awaited the day of his own redemption to return to the light.

_And that's why... I've fallen for him..._

Whether the quiet, reserved pilot had even realized that, Murrue didn't know. She suspected he did, though; for all that he locked his own humanity away, he was a shrewd student of character, and little slipped by him. Of the entire crew, he alone -well, he and Mir- had realized from the start that Flay was merely manipulating Kira, in the short while they were together. He had also very likely been the first to predict the relationship between Kira and Cagalli.

Of course, Ken _did_ have his blind spots; it was entirely possible that he was completely ignorant of the fact that his erstwhile captain -who would once have been a mortal enemy- was in love with him.

_Sure it is,_ she thought with a mental snort. _More likely, though, he's just being his usual self... which may be just as well. Would he appreciate the irony, if he knew what I do about the Battle of Jachin Due? If he knew... who died there?_ She lightly fingered the pendant she wore beneath her tunic, remembering another pilot; a mobile armor pilot, whose fate she had taken months to track down... and only succeeded after Sophia DiFalco and Mu La Flaga unknowingly provided her with the last critical information...

A quite cough broke into her thoughts. "Ah... Murrue?" Waltfeld said carefully. "You still with us, or did you fall asleep?"

Murrue shook herself, blushing faintly. "Ah, I was just lost in thought, Andy. Did I miss anything?"

Halberton looked at her with a uncomfortably knowing look in his eye. "No, actually; we were waiting for your to come out of your trance before we got back to business." He nodded at Ken. "Falcon?"

The ace nodded back. "Right," he said calmly, apparently unaware of what his captain might've been thinking. _Not that I buy his innocent look for a moment,_ she thought irritably. "From what we've uncovered, we think the Earth Forces will be moving-"

The chime of the intercom interrupted him. _"Captain?"_ Flay called; she still remained on _Archangel_'s Bridge, on communications watch. _"We've just received word from the Junk Guild that the Earth Forces have begun Operation Elvis. Several Fleets are now moving on the PLANTs themselves."_

Murrue activated the microphone at their end. "Understood, Flay. Thank you." She turned back to the others. "Well. It seems that whatever delayed them the last nine days has been cleared up. Ken?"

The ace had clearly been calculating flight times in his head, because he replied without hesitation. "Six days, Murrue. From Ptolemaeus, it'll take them six days to reach L5; and approximately the same for us." His gaze was solemn. "Our time of rest is over. If we don't move now, we'll never have the chance."

* * *

Less than a month after arriving at the concealed -and officially destroyed- lunar base, the six vessels of True ZAFT once again lifted from the Moon's surface, settled into close formation, and began accelerating toward Lagrange point Five. Had anyone cared to look, the thermal signature from such a large concentration of nuclear reactors -previously dispersed throughout Earth orbit- would've made them an easy target... but ZAFT was concerned only with the Homeland now, and the Earth Alliance cared only to attack the PLANTs. 

Six days to prepare for what all aboard those vessels knew would be their last battle. In that time, those crews did what they could to relax; loose ends were tied up, and -in more than one case- wills were written... and most of all, they tried not to think about the fact that not all of them would be returning from this battle alive...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Observation Deck, September 21st, C.E. 71

* * *

Kira Yamato idly watched the stars through the massive viewport, and wished fervently that his own mind was truly as much at peace as the depths of space seemed to be. But peace eluded him for now... and he knew exactly why. 

It wasn't Ken's assertion that they likely couldn't help Boaz; even Kira knew that they couldn't possibly arrive any faster than the Earth Forces, given how little warning they'd had, and parking nearer to the PLANTs and simply waiting would've been an invitation for destruction. No, he understood that... but Ken's words were still at the heart of his dilemma.

_Ken's eye closed. "You have no choice... but to target all weapons on my machine." The eye opened again, and he met Kira's gaze on his communications display. "You'll have to destroy Preybird... and me with it."_

Being told that the only way to save the _Archangel_ was to kill his comrade had not gone over well with Kira. In fact, he'd been so horrified by the idea, so unable to truly think it through, that he'd frozen up completely...

_Kira stared at the Preybird, appalled by the notion Ken had just suggested. "You're asking me to kill you?" he said in a hoarse whisper. "Are you out of your mind?"_

_"No," Ken said flatly, forcing himself not to think about those on the _Archangel_'s Bridge were making of the situation. "Better that you stop this maniac now, before we lose _Archangel_, then have me survive but the ship be destroyed."_

_Kira clenched his hands on his controls. "I can't do it, Falcon. I..."_

_"You have to. You may lose Preybird, and with it your best chance of stopping GENESIS, but I won't have you saving my sorry life if it means losing everyone aboard _Archangel_." Ken's hardened. "That ship means more to this effort than even the knowledge in my brain, Kira, and we are running out of time!"_

He'd been unable to make a decision, and that failure had very nearly been the end of everything. As he dithered, GENESIS Alpha had fired, and only Yzak and Dearka's attack from the inside had prevented it from reaching Preybird's power receptors, which would've allowed Ash Gray to fire the twin satellite cannon... and destroy the_ Archangel._

_Not just the _Archangel, Kira thought moodily. _That weapon could've taken out _all_ of our ships... all because I couldn't make a choice. Because I couldn't even try to disable Preybird, we nearly lost everything..._

"Kira? What's wrong?"

He looked up, to see Cagalli drifting into the compartment, looking concerned. "Oh, hi, Cagalli," he greeted quietly. "I was... I was just thinking. About that battle last month."

She sighed. "Kira, there's nothing about that battle that you should be worried about. We stopped Ash Gray, we scrapped his machine, and Yzak and Dearka blew up his superweapon. All their machines were taken out back there, so why are you still worrying about it?"

"I didn't know, at first," Kira admitted. "It's been bothering me since then, though... and now I finally understand why." He looked away, back out at the stars. "I froze up, Cagalli. I had to make a choice, with the _Archangel_'s safety at stake... and I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. Falcon told me to fire, and take Gray down with him; his own life for ours. And I just... couldn't do it." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't like what he's doing about the war, Cagalli... but I couldn't just shoot him down, either, even if he was the one who told me to. But... because I couldn't, because I was too weak to make a choice, we would've lost everything if those two hadn't..."

"We all make mistakes," Cagalli reminded him. "And nothing could've prepared you for _that._ Frankly, I wanted to tear a strip of Ken's hide for that one. That was quite a mess..."

He shook his head. "No, Cagalli, this wasn't like that ambush Admiral Halberton saved us from. Then Falcon _did_ nearly get us killed, because he didn't have a backup plan. This time... he stayed cool and in control, even when facing his own death." He smiled, but without any humor. "Actually, he was like that even in Zantetsuken; he knew he'd made a mistake, but he didn't let it stop him. He just kept on giving orders, changing his thinking to fit the situation. But me... when _I_ was faced with something unexpected, I just froze up..."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't start doubting yourself, Kira," she warned. "We'll be going into battle again in just a few days, and if you second-guess yourself now..."

Kira looked up, and smiled at her. "Don't worry, Cagalli," he told her. "I promised you I'd come back, and I'm gonna come back this time, too. No matter what happens, I'll be ready for it this time; no matter what choices I have to make, I'll do what I have to."

Cagalli sighed in relief, and hugged him tight. "That's better," she whispered. "I was afraid you were going to go to pieces on me or something... and then I'd have to _hurt_ you."

He laughed quietly. "I wouldn't risk _that_, Cagalli. No way..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Officer's Lounge

* * *

"You know," Sophia DiFalco remarked, sipping at a drink container, "one thing I really hate about zero-g is that you just can't mix a proper martini..." 

Mu La Flaga laughed. "Not the sort of thing I'd picture you drinking, Kestrel. In fact, you're not at all how I thought you were; when I first came on board... Well, to be perfectly honest, I didn't like you all that much. Maybe it was because of the bad blood between you and Falcon, but..."

"I'm sure that was part of it," she granted. "And I'll be the first to admit that I... wasn't as understanding of Falcon as I should've been. Back then, of course, I saw ZAFT as the enemy, pure and simple; I had no idea that they actually had more justification -far more justification- than _we_ did."

"You've changed since then," Mu noted. "And not just in your attitude toward our little brother. You've been a lot easier to get along with since... oh, since around the time the Eighth Fleet was destroyed, I guess."

Sophia took another sip of her drink. "Not hard to understand," she said easily. "Back when we first met, I was busy with engineering; and I tend to be a little short-fused when I'm dealing with machinery. Machines have an annoying tendency to malfunction, and while the reasons may be perfectly logical, it can take days to find the specific problem. When you're in the cockpit of a mobile armor, though -or a mobile suit, for that matter- you don't run into many problems that can't be fixed just by shooting at them." She shrugged. "And... well, I guess you might say I was like Falcon, back then: playing a role. We all do, sooner or later; though with Falcon it often seems like he's been playing the role for so long that he's _become_ the role."

"Maybe he has," Mu mused. "On the other hand, I think I know one person who might be able to break him out of his shell."

She chuckled. "Yeah, Mu, I know what you mean." She lifted an eyebrow. "Did _you_ expect Murrue to fall in love with him like that?"

He shook his head. "Not really; but maybe that's because I tend to forget that Falcon's been an adult for longer than a Natural would be at his age. Besides, whoever thought anybody could see enough through that mask of his to find anything _to_ fall in love with?"

"Now you're starting to sound like me, before I got over my worries about Metzinger's work," Sophia remarked. "I thought _you_ were the one always getting irritated with _me_ for saying things like that."

"There's a difference," he pointed out. "I'm not saying that there _isn't_ a human being in there, I'm just saying that I'm surprised anyone was able to see through his act." Mu tilted his head. "So, what do you think? Does Falcon feel the same way about her?"

She polished off her drink -inwardly being thankful she'd spent enough time in pilot's bars to get a high alcohol tolerance- and leaned against a bulkhead. "Yeah," she said finally, "I think he does. He would never admit it, might not even know it... but yeah." She looked up, eyes narrow. "You hear the story behind his crazy moves at the Bloody Valentine? Beyond Metzinger's role, I mean?"

Mu blinked. "Yeah," he said cautiously. "I didn't know _you_ had, though. Neither Falcon nor Dearka ever like to talk about it."

"Dearka and I have... reached an understanding," Sophia told him. "I think nearly getting killed by Miriallia changed his mind about Naturals; maybe because it proved a 'little girl' wasn't afraid to kill. Anyway, he told me about it, awhile back... and now I think I understand Falcon a little better. And, frankly... I hope he and Murrue _do _get together."

Mu's own eyes went narrow at her tone. "You're nervous about something, aren't you."

"You got _that_ right." She sighed. "Look, Mu, for all the problems we had for awhile, my brother -our brother- and I have gotten along a lot better lately, and I love him; he's the only family I have left. And I'm scared of his obsession with GENESIS. He's so set on destroying it that I think... he'd willingly sacrifice himself to take it out." She swallowed. "He doesn't have anything to come back to, Mu; nothing to really hold him here. He has friends, yeah, and you and me, but... the death of Laura Elsman broke something in him, and realizing what he'd done to avenge her finished the job. If he survives the battle, fine; he'll be okay with that, and maybe then he'll be able to move on. But before that, he's not going to make any special effort to stay alive any longer than he needs to in order to do the job. He lives for redemption... and I'm not sure if he lives for anything _beyond_ that."

The Hawk of Endymion considered that for several moments. "Then I guess we'll just have to make sure he doesn't die on us," he said finally. "Eh, partner?"

"Eh," Sophia agreed, and then smiled slightly. "Of course, we _might_ not need to worry; if Murrue ever gets the courage to actually _say_ anything about it to him, well... I know this about Falcon: he'll do whatever he can to come home if he knows someone's waiting for him." She glanced away. "Or I should say, _Dearka_ knows; I was too busy being afraid of him to find out before that..."

Mu lightly grabbed her arm. "Hey, now, don't _you_ start getting all depressed and self-hateful, Kestrel. _One_ of you has to be upbeat; I don't know if the _Archangel_'s morale could handle both DiFalcos getting all moody and depressed. They might revoke your alias, if it came to it, and we can't have _that,_ now can we?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I guess you're right... but let me ask you something, Mu: does _your_ alias actually mean anything to you?"

He blinked at the unexpected question, then looked away. "Yes and no," he said in a low voice. "On the one hand, no pilot minds having his ego stroked like that; but on the other... C'mon, Kestrel, you know as well as I do that Headquarters only pinned that nickname on me to try and salvage something from Endymion. Sure, we won, but only by incinerating a whole lot of our own people... including the few members of my own squadron the Gray Demons hadn't already killed." He sighed. "No, Sophia, I can't say I'm exactly proud of that name."

Sophia nodded. "I know what you mean, Mu. And therein lies your answer: I don't really care if they take away my title of 'Victorian Kestrel'. First Victoria was a victory, all right, but it was still a bloody mess... literally. ZAFT may've been inexperienced at that kind of assault, but mobile suits are murder against fighters, and that's no lie." She closed her eyes. "I'm just glad I wasn't involved in Second Victoria, or I'd be a POW about now... or dead. Of course, Third Victoria was probably even worse; Muruta Azrael would've seen to that."

"And that's why we're fighting him," Mu agreed quietly. "That man forfeited his right to live a long time ago... and my comrades didn't die at Endymion just to let bastards like him turn this into a war of genocide. We're going to end it... for those who fell before us."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Cafeteria, September 22nd, C.E. 71

* * *

_Man... the world just doesn't seem to work the way it used to..._

Dearka Elsman stared moodily out a cafeteria viewport, brooding; it seemed to be something a lot of people were doing lately, on the six vessels of their little fleet. They all knew that the end of their long battle was coming soon... and for good or ill, who could say? All that could be known for sure was that now was the time to think about the past, as well as the future; to make final decisions while time yet remained. Soon they would all be embroiled in battle once again, and no one wanted to leave anything undone.

_Do soldiers even have futures?_ Dearka wondered. _A future is something that lies ahead of you... but on the battlefield, you never know if your next moment will be your last. You never know if you'll come home a hero, or a corpse... or a war criminal._

He was reminded of something his best friend had once written, during the days before Patrick Zala took note of him. _"There's a curse every warrior faces,"_ Ken DiFalco had written, in one of the papers he'd published within ZAFT. _"For some, there is nothing that expresses meaning more clearly than the clash of blades, the echo of gunfire, the feel of fist against fist. Only warriors can truly understand other warriors; yet to gain that understanding, they must all too often meet each other on opposite sides of the field of battle. Men and women who might've been the best of friends under other circumstances can only express that friendship through shed blood and eyes filled with tears from the smoke of a blasted and desolate battlefield. And they all know that, in the end, it doesn't matter which of them wins their battle; whoever wins will not have peace, but rather continue the eternal struggle, until another warrior brings them down..."_

And then there was something else, something Ken had never written down. Dearka had once asked Sparky what the ace had told his subordinates, when he announced his decision to desert. What could've made them follow so willingly? The Gray Demons were devoted to their commander, certainly; but they were also very intelligent -else Ken would never have left them to operate on their own, without him- and so blind acceptance didn't seem like them.

Sparky had first answered with the obvious -the GENESIS and Shiva Option data- and then gone on to recount something else his commander had said. _"I know this will be a hard road, for all of us, people. Betraying ZAFT, the organization we've all served for years now, is a radical step to take; after all, it's through ZAFT that we've protected the PLANTs. But,"_ Ken had added, "_there's something else you need to understand. We soldiers... we're not tools of the government, or anyone else. Fighting is the only thing I'm good at... but at least I always fight for what I believe in. And I will be no tool, ladies and gentlemen. I will not let Patrick subvert what we've all striven for just to avenge himself upon the Naturals; I will not permit myself to be used by a cause I no longer believe in. And I say none of you should be tools, either. What say you?"_

"We're not tools of the government, or anyone else..." Dearka murmured. "I'd like to believe that, Falcon, and deep down, maybe I do, but..."

"Uh... Dearka? Are you... all right?"

He glanced up, and saw Mir entering the cafeteria. "Ahh, it's nothing," he said, waving a hand. "Just... thinking about my father, back in the PLANTs."

"That doesn't sound like 'nothing'," she said dryly. "In fact, I'd think that would be pretty important to you, Dearka." She slid into a seat at one of the tables, and frowned thoughtfully. "Your father... he's one of the moderates, isn't he?"

"He used to be, anyway," Dearka confirmed. "Though he might be with Zala's radicals these days, like Yzak's mother. It's been a little hard to keep track of the political situation back in the Homeland lately, since we don't have quite the high-level access the Clyne Faction had back there, before _Eternal_ and Captain Waltfeld pulled out." He twitched his shoulders uncomfortably. "Actually, I wouldn't be too surprised if the _entire_ Supreme Council is in the radical faction these days; most of the moderates went into hiding after Zala started going nuts about the Clyne family. If my father's still able to show his face in public, he must be on Zala's good side... and I'm not sure that's a good sign."

"It can't be that bad," Mir said reassuringly. "I mean, he raised _you;_ I can't see _your_ father being the type to go in for blind stereotyping..."

"I thought of Naturals as a stereotype," Dearka pointed out dryly, "before you tried to kill me; don't give my family _too_ much credit. Still, I like to think my father is smart enough not to fall for Zala's rhetoric... and I'm pretty sure he at least won't approve of GENESIS."

"I guess that doesn't help much, though, does it?" she said with a sigh. "If Ken's right -and he usually is- then Zala won't even have mentioned GENESIS to the Supreme Council at all. If he did, it might lead to a revolt... so your father doesn't know about it."

"No," he agreed, "I'm sure he doesn't; and that's actually kinda reassuring, under the circumstances." He shrugged. "Well, it probably doesn't matter anyway. When the battle begins, the Supreme Council will be irrelevant; one thing Falcon managed to convince Zala of -and managed to get into the Supreme Council itself- was that political micro-managing of war is a bad idea; and micro-managing an individual battle would be even worse. So they'll probably be in a nice, safe bunker somewhere, and my father should be fine if we can just manage to prevent any nuclear weapons from hitting the PLANTs directly."

"What about Boaz?" Mir asked quietly. "You think we can do anything about the attack there?"

Dearka slowly shook his head. "Probably not," he said softly. "The Earth Forces _have_ to attack it; along with Jachin Due, it's one of the 'gateways' to the Homeland, and any attack pretty much has to deal with those fortresses to get in range to attack the PLANTs themselves. And since the Earth Forces will probably arrive at least an hour or two before we do... No," he sighed, "I think Boaz is a writeoff. I really to say it, since there's a lot of good people stationed there, but there's nothing we can do about it."

"That was essentially my analysis," she agreed, and grinned at his expression. "What, you think I spent nine months on a warship -a warship with the ever-eccentric Ken DiFalco aboard- without learning anything about warfare? When you spend as much time on the bridge as I do, you learn a few things, Dearka." Her face fell then, and she looked away. "And that's why... I'm worried. I know we've got a good chance, and that we'll at least go down swinging, but... an awful lot of us won't be coming back. I..."

He blinked. "What are you trying to say, Mir?"

"I... I just..." Suddenly, Mir reached out and, to his shock, hugged the pilot, hard. "Promise me you'll come back, Dearka," she whispered. "You _have_ to be careful out there. I already lost someone once; if you don't come back, just like Tolle didn't..."

Dearka well and truly didn't know how to react for several moments; this was completely outside his experience. The only Natural he'd ever had much contact with before boarding the _Archangel_ was Sophia DiFalco, when she was still suspicious of her younger brother. Now this one...

_No,_ he told himself firmly. _Not a "Natural". Natural and Coordinator are distinctions that just keep people apart. Whether our genes are altered or not, we're all human; in every way that matters, we're the same..._

He tentatively returned the embrace. "Okay, Mir," he said softly. "I'll be coming back... I promise."

* * *

_Eternal,_ Cafeteria, September 23rd, C.E. 71

* * *

"We sure have come a long way, haven't we," Athrun Zala said with a sigh. "It's hard to remember that things were pretty much black and white when we started all this. Back then, I was just a ZAFT redcoat, in the Le Creuset team, with nothing more on my mind than avenging the Bloody Valentine..." 

"Back then," Lacus Clyne murmured, "I was just a pop singer, helping to keep morale up. I didn't know anything about what was going on behind the scenes; that just wasn't the sort of thing I thought about. Then I came aboard the _Archangel,_ and met Kira... and everything changed, for both of us."

"That's true enough," he agreed. "It certainly made my life more complicated." He shook his head. "I never dreamed I'd meet Kira again in the middle of a battlefield; and never in my worst nightmares did I imagine I'd have to fight him. By the end of it, we'd cost each other a lot, in real and imagined actions -and I _did_ take Tolle Koenig's life- and we were both half-dead. If Cagalli hadn't found me... and if you hadn't helped Kira..."

"Helping Kira was a way of helping you," she pointed out, "just as saving you was a way for Cagalli to learn more about what happened to Kira. It's just so sad that she thought he was gone..."

"Yeah," Athrun said dryly, "it was; and if she'd had just a little less self-control, it probably would've gotten me killed. Still," he went on thoughtfully, "I can't really blame her. And I'm glad those two got together; Kira needed someone to support him through the fighting, Cagalli needed someone to support her after her father died... and they were right for each other."

"I like to think we're right for each other, too," Lacus said quietly. "That this isn't just an arranged engagement anymore."

"It's not," he assured her. "And I have no intention of abiding by my father's decision in the matter." A flicker of pain crossed his face then, at the mention of his father, as he remembered one of the reasons they'd come to this path in the first place.

Lacus saw it, and touched his shoulder. "This is difficult for you, isn't it?" she said gently. "Having to fight your own father, knowing what it is that he intends to use on Earth..."

"Yeah," Athrun said heavily, "it's difficult. Part of me wants to blame Commander DiFalco for this, you know; part of me wants to think that my father would never have come to this if GENESIS hadn't tempted him. But the fact that he _could_ succumb to that temptation in the first place means that something isn't right with him. That he truly is at fault here..."

"Can you face him?" she asked. "Talk to him, take one more chance?"

He sighed. "I can try. In fact, the first thing I'm going to do when we reach Jachin is try to talk to my father. I don't know if he'll listen, but... I have to try. I have to see if there's any way to salvage him, before it's too late... before everything ends."

Lacus nodded wisely. "And if you can't? What then?"

Athrun clenched a fist. "I don't know," he said, almost in a whisper. "Even Commander DiFalco doesn't know; he told me that, and I believe him. Captain Cooper, though... I think he'll try something more direct, with or without the Commander's permission. And... that might be the right thing to do. The Commander and I both have compromised judgment where my father is concerned; me because I'm his son, and the Commander because he was his friend."

"Maybe that's true," she said slowly, "but it won't help you if you keep thinking like that, Athrun. What your father has become is not your fault, and if you dwell on it now, it'll just get you killed." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If that happened, I..."

He pulled her close. "Now who's being gloomy?" he said gently. "Listen..." _A lot of us won't be coming back,_ he thought to himself, pondering what to say. _We all know the stakes are high, and the risks even higher; we have the forces to have a chance of pulling this off, but a lot of us will be expended for that goal. Still..._ "I won't die out there, Lacus. We still have a future ahead of us... and I want to see it with you."

Lacus smiled contentedly. "Me, too, Athrun."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Ken's Quarters, September 25th, C.E. 71

* * *

As Murrue approached Ken's hatch, she noted that there was no sign of illumination on the other side. That, however, didn't deter her; she knew as well as anyone that the ace preferred to work under lighting conditions those with ordinary sight considered inadequate, to say the least. 

She wasn't sur exactly why she'd come. Natarle had taken the night shift -it was nearly midnight, ship's time- with customary efficiency, and merely nodded when the captain mentioned her intention of checking up on their resident brilliant -if unstable- strategist. _Although,_ she thought darkly, _I'm not sure I liked that knowing smile of hers... maybe she wasn't so bad before she loosened up._

Still, why _had_ she come? Perhaps it was because this was the last night of peace before the storm was upon them all; after all the next day would be one of fierce battle. Perhaps she wanted to see if he had any final thoughts on the upcoming conflict... or perhaps she was just worried about _him._

_Yes,_ Murrue decided, _I suppose I am. And there's nothing wrong with that._

Arriving at the hatch, she cocked her head, hearing a faint sound from within. Not the typing she might've expected, or the swishing sounds of sword practice, but rather... music?

Before she could touch the hatch, it slid aside (incidentally confirming her long-held suspicion that the pilot had hacked into the _Archangel_'s security cameras), and from within the dimness came the unmistakable sound of a string instrument of some kind. Not a recording, either...

Murrue stepped inside, and the hatch slid shut, engulfing her in near-darkness; and though the ace must've manipulating some kind of controls, the music never faltered. Whatever it was, it had a sad tone to it, as befitted a man with his past. When her eyes adjusted enough to make out a few details, she could see Ken leaning against a bulkhead, eye closed, his hands carefully manipulating a violin.

She felt herself becoming lost in the music, and simply stood there, listening, until the piece came to an end, at which point Ken finally spoke. "I thought you might be dropping by, Murrue," he said quietly. "Should I raise the lights?"

Murrue shook her head. "No, that's all right." From the distinctive silvery glow, she could tell he wasn't wearing his eyepatch; he most likely had the lights turned low so that he could dispense with the patch without risk. "I... didn't know you played the violin, Ken."

"I'm a man of many talents," he said simply, carefully putting the instrument in a case. "I find it soothing."

She nodded in understanding. "You've certainly acquired a number of skills, for someone so young," she mused. "Started as an engineer and martial artist, became a pilot, and learned tactics and strategy... and just as an afterthought became a musician..."

"George Glenn won the Nobel Prize at twenty," Ken reminded her. "And genetic engineering technology has improved since his day. Besides, even I need something other than warfare..."

Murrue nodded again, thoughtfully. "But where did you get that violin from? I know you couldn't have brought it from Heliopolis..."

"I left it in the PLANTs, when I deserted," he explained. "It, along with most of my other personal effects, were in storage at the Gray Demon base, then carried away aboard the _Arkbird._ I left them in storage, though, for safekeeping... until tonight." He nodded at one bulkhead, where ten katanas hung, in two rows. "I also had those brought aboard, as well."

She looked at them blankly, then inhaled sharply. "Those blades... they belonged to the other Gray Demons, didn't they?"

Ken nodded. "That's right. It was only after my desertion that we began to carry our blades with us even in combat, and Talia Coriolis' blade was found intact among the wreckage of her machine." He gazed at the weapons. "One blade for each fallen Demon... the Requiem, which once belonged to Victor Tempest, may he rest in peace. The Asmodeus, who shared its name with Alicia Sharpe. Fafnir, Matt Russo's weapon. Rot Sturm, or Red Storm, which belonged to Rudolph Krieger. Caladbolg -another name for Excalibur- Montgomery Campbell's blade. Hanryoken -'Companion Sword- was Yoshinori Nogura's best friend; in some ways, his sword meant more to him than most people did. Tatyana Iosefova Sokolov's Ivan the Terrible. Petra von Strasser's Valkyrie. Eric Tellerman's Templar; old Eric could trace his lineage back to a Templar Knight, and was proud of it. Talia Coriolis' White Queen."

Murrue nodded slowly, a solemn feeling spreading through her. She was looking at what most people would consider to be mere objects... but were really symbols, embodying what ten fallen men and women once stood for. The last remnants of the dead. It felt almost as if the ghosts of those dead pilots now inhabited the dim quarters of their commander; a feeling reinforced when she realized there were other objects in the once-austere room, photos and other memorabilia of the team.

"They had no family?" she heard herself ask. "No one for those blades to go to?"

Ken shrugged minutely. "Victor was, as you know, a unique case; not only did he have no family, being a clone, but it was also his wish that I take his weapon out with me. As to the others... yes, there were families, but it was the wish of my fallen soldiers that these, at least, stay with the unit."

"I see..." Murrue swallowed. "I understand, I think, Ken. But... you never seemed very interested in the past before. Not like this, anyway."

He was silent for a long moment. "Murrue," he said finally, "I did what I did because I had no choice. To get this far, to make the choices I've had to make, I had to lock away my humanity, safely behind closed doors in mind, where it couldn't interfere. Another man might've broken, faced with this path; fighting comrades, friends, all the while making cold-blooded decisions based solely on logic to reach one conclusion. Any man could've done that for a time... but few could do it for so long, without losing their humanity completely. In that sense, I'm actually grateful to Doctor Metzinger; what little he had time to do to me proved invaluable."

She nodded slightly. "And now? What's changed now?"

"Now?" Another small shrug. "I realized something long ago, Murrue, when blind rage was replaced by cold calculation: to reach the final battle, I had to lock away my humanity. To _win_ the final battle... I have to open that door again. Logic will take a man many places... but sometimes, passion is needed. To win a do-or-die last chance battle, I need fire, not ice. That's how humans overcome even the worst odds..."

Murrue smiled a little. "I think I understand... but I have to admit, Ken, while I may be used to seeing you smile occasionally, I can't quite imagine what you'd be like without your usual reserve."

"You'll see," Ken said simply; there was something odd about his gaze, though...

"Well," she said, after a moment's reflection, "since you're obviously doing fine, I'll let you get some sleep... or however it is that you can rest on a night like this. I'll see you in the morning, Ken."

Murrue was just reaching for the hatch controls when Ken spoke one last time. "Don't think I don't know why you came, Murrue," he said quietly. "Even if I weren't good at reading people, the rumors spread fast." There was a peculiar note in his voice, one she couldn't recall having heard before. "And maybe... maybe it's time I moved on."

She froze there, not moving a muscle, for several moments. _Is he saying what I think he's saying? But... Ken never talks like that..._

After a brief silence of his own, the ace finished, "When this is over... there's something we need to talk about."

"Yes," Murrue said quietly. "I suppose there is..." _But there's something I need to tell _you,_ too, Ken, before the battle. Whether we have a chance for our "talk" or not, it's something you should know..._ "Goodnight, Ken."

"Goodnight, Murrue."

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge, September 26th, C.E. 71

* * *

Muruta Azrael watched the asteroid fortress known as Boaz grow on the screen with a smug smile. "We're finally here," he said, almost to himself. "At long last..." 

"And there's no sign of the 'True ZAFT' faction, either," Admiral James Hamilton remarked. "I'm actually a little surprised they're not here; they must've known we'd be moving soon, and surely they'd try to prevent us from destroying even one of the fortresses..."

Azrael shrugged. "Maybe they ran into some technical difficulties," he speculated, unconcerned. "Or maybe they just realized five ships -or however many it is these days- isn't enough to stand against both ZAFT and us. After all, I may hate DiFalco, but I know better than to underestimate that particular space monster. One thing he _isn't_ is stupid."

"That's true," Hamilton agreed grumpily. "The Butcher Bird caused us enough problems when he was still working within the framework of ZAFT; on his own, without oversight, he's been even more of a nuisance. If he and_ Odin_ hadn't set things back by blasting Castor's force to atoms, we'd have been ready before now." He looked up at the screen. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. They're not here, so we can proceed with the operation without interference."

"ZAFT forces are beginning to react to our presence, Admiral," _Dominion_'s detection officer reported. "Communications intercepts indicate Boaz is going on high alert, and mobile suits are beginning to launch. Also, ships and mobile suits from Jachin Due are beginning to scramble."

The admiral snorted. "The Jachin forces won't get here in time to make a difference. As for the Boaz defenders... launch Calamity, Forbidden, and Raider, and deploy the Peacemaker Force. If all goes well, that fortress will be dust in an hour."

Azrael smiled evilly to himself. "And then we move on to Jachin Due," he whispered to himself. "And from there... the Coordinator Homeland itself. Time to shatter those hourglasses..."

* * *

In order to launch this final, massive attack on the PLANTs, the Earth Forces left Earth itself almost undefended. Third Fleet had been destroyed over a year before, at Endymion; First even earlier, during the Yggdrasil battles. Eighth had been lost covering the _Archangel_'s descent to Earth's surface, and Second Fleet had been effectively wiped out at Mendel, by the ZAFT and True ZAFT forces. 

Now, with the smell of victory in the air, they sent the Fourth, Fifth, and Seventh Fleets to the PLANTs, leaving only the Sixth Fleet in low Earth orbit to defend against raiding attacks. Had they been inclined to do so, True ZAFT would very likely have been capable of destroying Earth's remaining defenses, and from there launching massive attacks against surface targets... such as the Atlantic Federation capital.

Muruta Azrael, however, had made one accurate calculation, which the Earth Forces Headquarters agreed with: even if the enemy did manage to make such an attack, it would be at the expense of losing the PLANTs entirely, and any gains made on Earth itself would be swiftly reversed when the Fleets returned. And, more importantly, they understood that if you presented a serious threat to the PLANTs, Ken DiFalco _would_ respond in force... and none of his people would argue with him.

So the massive attack was launched, with its admirals feeling smugly assured of victory, for even True ZAFT would be no match for the might of three entire fleets, as well as the equally-hostile ZAFT forces. No matter what happened, victory would be theirs.

Unfortunately for them, they underestimated not only the skill of Ken DiFalco, but also the sheer determination of one Lance Cooper and the crew of his ship, the _Arkbird..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"It's as we feared," Alicia Cateau said glumly, watching the main screen. "They got here ahead of us. Not much, but enough." 

Murrue nodded, observing the mobile suits and nuclear-armed mobile armors pouring out of the dozens of Alliance warships. "We won't be in range for another..."

"Twenty minutes," Ken supplied without turning; he was already in flight gear, with his helmet tucked under his arm. "Might not seem like much, but by the time we could reach them, the battle will have been joined." He shook his head, frustration evident in his expression. "We don't want to get caught in that."

As if on cue, Murrue's right-hand intercom screen lit up. _"What are we waiting for?"_ Kira demanded, from Freedom's cockpit. _"We're here, so why aren't we launching? If we don't hurry, those mobile armors will reach Boaz, and the nukes-"_

"There's nothing we can do for Boaz, Kira," Ken said sharply. "We'd be torn apart by the time we got there; there's too many of them, even for the forces we have. And even if we _did_ get there, it'd be just in time to watch nuclear warheads detonating within the fortress. No, Kira, we have no choice but to wait this out... if only to avoid getting nuked ourselves."

_"Then how are we supposed to do any good at all?"_ Kira said pointedly. _"If this is too much for us to handle, why did you tell us we had a chance in the first place?"_

The ace's eye narrowed dangerously. "I haven't been leading you on, if that's what you're implying, Kira," he said coolly. "I said only that we can't do anything for Boaz; we'll have our chance yet. Look, by the time they've taken out that fortress, they'll have taken some losses; and they'll need time to regroup. When they launch next time, we'll have ample opportunity to get into position before they coalesce into a formation like this one. Then, and only then, will I approve a launch. You can head out if you want to, but I won't take any responsibility."

Murrue winced at the exchange. The two pilots had been on progressively worse terms with each other for a couple of months now, and the choice Ken had given Kira at GENESIS Alpha hadn't helped matters any. Now... _I don't think Kira will misunderstand that tone,_ she thought uneasily. _Ken's right; but I'm not sure it was a good idea to say it like that._ Ken's tone had clearly indicated what he thought of people who had chosen to accept his authority, then went and demanded an explanation for every order. In that he was undoubtedly correct; for all that Kira disapproved of his mentor's methods, he _had_ agreed to let the older pilot have overall authority, and had never objected to it... which meant, at least in a military situation like this, that he really had no business questioning orders. _Kira's never been _trained_ as a soldier, so maybe he doesn't understand that -actually, I'm fairly sure of it, given some of the things he's done in the past- but when orders are given -especially by someone who presumably has more information about the situation than you do- you don't stop to debate them..._

She shook herself. Kira had his way, and Ken had one of his own. They simply didn't mesh properly these days.

Meanwhile, Kira had cut the connection with the Bridge, and Ken was heading for the elevator. "I'll be in the hangar if you need me," he called over his shoulder. "Saddle up; lock and load."

To Murrue's intense surprise, a cocky grin was briefly visible on his face as he left...

* * *

_Arkbird,_ Bridge

* * *

"So," Sparky Cooper said heavily, "it's begun." 

"Looks that way, Sir," his second in command, Jane Goldberg, agreed; she, too, saw the growing battle ahead of them. "How long do you think the ZAFT forces will hold out?"

"Not more than half an hour," he said sadly. "Perhaps less; I have the unpleasant suspicion Patrick is going to deliberately use the destruction of Boaz to justify the use of GENESIS. And once that occurs..."

"He'll get off at least one shot," Goldberg murmured unhappily. "The only silver lining is that he won't be able to justify targeting Earth this early in the game." She looked over at her captain. "And then, Sir? We have to make sure the Commander has enough time..."

"I know." Sparky closed his eyes. "You know what we're going to have to do, Jane. One last hellride, as the books would say." He looked up again, and his gaze swept his Bridge crew. "I can't ask any of you to do this, you know. Nor do you have to. I can do this alone."

"No, Sir," his helmsman said firmly. "We'll follow the Commander to hell if we have to, even if we don't come out alive. If that means one last ride into death, then that's a price we're willing to pay, Sir."

"For the PLANTs," Goldberg agreed."And for the Commander. This is the moment we've been waiting for, isn't it? I say we go out with a bang, Captain. Maybe we'll even make sure the Commander doesn't have to risk going inside GENESIS."

"Maybe we will," Sparky murmured. "I hope so. Jack," he called to his helmsman, "lay in that course for Jachin Due."

_Forgive me, Boss. But this is something we have to do... and you have too much to live for. The world will need you, when all this is over... and I won't let the sacrifices our comrades made be in vain._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Corridor

* * *

"Guess we're running a little late," Dearka commented to Cagalli, stepping out of the pilot's locker room. "The others must be at their machines by now." 

"Not Ken," she disagreed. "I hear he was on the Bridge until a minute ago; probably making one last check of the situation." She scratched her head. "Though I did expect to see him down here about now; unless he already suited up..."

"Probably." He shrugged. "Well, we'd better get going; this is one party we shouldn't be late for. Falcon would kill us, if the enemy didn't."

"No, Dearka, I wouldn't kill you," Ken said, coming up the corridor toward them. "We've got a battle ahead of us, like you said, and I need all the people I can get for this one. Can't go around killing my pilots, right, old buddy?" To Dearka's shock, the ace clapped him on the shoulder and grinned broadly, before turning to Cagalli. "C'mon, partner; let's go show the Earth Forces -and Patrick- what we're really made of." With another smile, he gripped her arm briefly, then pushed off down the corridor, throwing a jaunty wave as he passed.

Cagalli couldn't help but stare in his wake. "What on earth...? I've never seen Ken act like that. Have you, Dearka?" she asked, turning toward Buster's pilot. "...Dearka?"

Dearka's face had gone white with shock. "Was that... was that actually Falcon?" he said in a hoarse whisper.

"Yeah..." she confirmed carefully. "...Why?"

He swallowed. "Because the last time Falcon acted like _that_ was over eighteen months ago... before he launched in a GINN that fell apart on him." He blinked, not sure he'd really seen it at all. "The day of the Bloody Valentine... before Laura died..."

Cagalli looked at him in surprise. "You mean...?"

Dearka nodded. "Yeah. His mental state's gone back to the way it was before all this happened... to when he was all fired up about protecting the PLANTs, without the depression that was always with him after that day." He slowly shook his head. "There's something weird going on in Falcon's head right now, Cagalli. I don't know what, but there's _definitely_ something different about him today. I just hope it's for the good, not the bad..."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

The hangar was abuzz with activity by the time Murrue -who had left the Bridge at Natarle's subtle urging- entered it. A lot of the activity seemed to be centered around Preybird; a number of Murdoch's mechanics, as well as several people she identified from _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus,_ were swarming around the wings and twin satellite cannon, evidently making sure the systems required to destroy GENESIS were in perfect working order. 

_Last minute details,_ she thought, making her way toward the machine's cockpit. _Gets you every time... Well, at least it means he's still here._

The hatch opened within moments of her knock, and Ken stuck his head out. "Oh, hey, Murrue," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

Murrue smiled. "You didn't think I was going to let you launch without a sendoff, did you?" She glanced around. "Is there any way we can talk privately?"

He nodded, and beckoned her into the cockpit. Being rather more spacious than a standard mobile suit cockpit, there was easily room for both of them. "What's on your mind?" he asked, as the hatch closed behind them.

She hesitated for a long moment, before finally replying, "There's something I really ought to tell you, Ken." Reaching into the collar of her uniform, she withdrew the coffin-shaped pendant she carried everywhere. "This pendant... was a gift from my old boyfriend. He... was a mobile armor pilot."

Ken nodded, perplexed as to why she was telling _him,_ but understanding at least part of what she was getting at. "That's why you seem a little distant with mobile armor pilots, then. I'd wondered."

"Yes," Murrue acknowledged. "That's why. The reason I'm telling you is... Well, he was at the First Battle of Jachin Due. He... was killed by a GINN pilot, not long after launching from the mobile armor carrier _Tecumseh Sherman."_

He tilted his head, eye narrow. _That name... sounds familiar. Why would I remember the _Sherman? _Unless..._ His eye widened in shock. "The _Sherman..._ she was a _Nelson_-class, wasn't she? I brought her down... which means..." He looked away, feeling suddenly very guilty. "I'm... sorry..."

She touched his arm. "I never blamed you, Ken," she said gently. "The Earth Forces _were_ the aggressors; all you were doing was defending your home against invaders. What happened that day... People die in war, Ken. You've said that often enough yourself. Don't blame yourself for what you did... because I don't blame you, either." She glanced away. "I just... thought you should know, since you're about to head out. And..." She looked up again. "Don't die on me, Ken," she said, an unaccustomed pleading note in her voice. "I don't want things to come full circle; not any more than they already have."

Ken was silent for a long moment. "I don't intend to die today, Murrue," he said finally. "Really, I don't. Because... I have something to come back to." To Murrue's momentary shock, the ace suddenly reached out, and pulled her into an embrace. "I'll be coming back, Murrue," he said quietly. "I promise."

"You'd better," she said past a lump in her throat. "...I love you."

She'd expected him to stiffen at that, but instead he merely tightened his grip for an instant. "I know," he said simply. "That's why I'm coming back."

_"Captain Ramius to the Bridge! Captain Ramius to the Bridge!"_

Murrue pulled away, looking mildly disgusted. "If that was Natarle's idea, I'll have her spaced," she muttered. "Well," she said to the pilot, nervously clearing her throat, "I guess I'd better get going." She gave his shoulder a last, brief squeeze. "Now how about you go out there and make the impossible possible, hm?"

Ken grinned; still an incongruous sight, but one she figured she could get used to. "You got it."

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"What's the emergency, Natarle?" Murrue asked even as she came through the hatch. "A new development?" 

"Look for yourself, Captain," Natarle said sourly, and pointed toward the bow. "In a few moments, I don't think you'll even need computer enhancement to see what's going on."

The Captain swallowed, seeing exactly what her exec was talking about. "They got through the Boaz defenses faster than I expected," she noted, as missiles flew into every available access into the asteroid fortress, while the forces launching them began to pull back at high speed.

"I think the Commander was right," Natarle opined, watching nuclear fire begin to blossom in bursts of unbelievably bright light from with Boaz. "Zala must've done this on purpose. To sacrifice so many men as bait for a trap..." She shook her head in revulsion. "It's just like what Headquarters did to us at Alaska."

"Agreed." Murrue settled into her chair, and punched up her intercom. "Ken? Are you watching?"

_"Yes."_ Ken's right eye was shining suspiciously; clearly, the destruction of Boaz was harder on him than he'd ever admit. _"It seems Azrael is in something of a hurry."_

"So it would seem," she agreed. "Now what? They're beginning to pull back, but it won't be for long; do we launch now?"

_"Yes."_ She could see him altering his radio settings to an all-ships band. _"Attention, all True ZAFT forces. Begin mobile suit launch at once. Repeat, launch all mobile suits immediately!"_

"Odin,_ complying,"_ Jason Chance said simply, and four Strike Daggers, led by a Gunbarrel-equipped 105 Dagger, streaked out into space, coming to a "halt" in front of their mothership.

"Kusanagi,_ roger that,"_ Ledonir Kisaka acknowledged, and a dozen M1 Astrays, led by Asagi Caldwell, Mayura Labatt, and Juri Wu Nien poured out the bow of the Orb warship. They had lost their country to nuclear weapons; now they would save someone else's from the same fate.

_"Got it, Commander; _Eternal_ now deploying GuAIZ units, and the METEORs are standing by."_ On the heels of Andrew Waltfeld's acknowledgment, the two GuAIZs assigned to his ship shot out of the catapult, and the METEOR units detached, awaiting only their assigned mobile suits.

"Arkbird,_ deploying now."_ From Sparky Cooper's command, four more GuAIZs launched into the void... their pilots knowing something about their shipboard comrades their Commander did not.

_"This is _Asmodeus;_ we're launching now, Boss."_ The six GuAIZs -one piloted by Leanne Eldridge- three Astrays -from the _Hades,_ before the ship had been destroyed- Nicol Amalfi's Raiden, and a single CGUE DEEP Arms, piloted by Shiho Hahnenfuss, fired off into the cold vacuum of space as fast as the catapults could cycle.

Then it was finally _Archangel_'s turn. _"Kira Yamato here. Freedom, heading out!"_

His best friend echoed his sentiments. _"This is Athrun Zala. Justice, launching!"_

_"Yzak Joule, launching."_ For once, the Duel's pilot didn't sound like he was going to burn up the enemy with sheer rage; from the tone of his voice, he was beyond mere anger and into the realm where his vengeance would be served cold...

On Mir's screen, a blond-haired pilot grinned out at her. _"Here we go, Mir,"_ he told her. _"This is it."_

She swallowed. "Yeah. Look... be careful."

_"Always am. Dearka Elsman, launching."_

Next into the catapults were Strike and Hyperion; the Strike was, once again, equipped with the Gunbarrel pack. _"Bridge, this is La Flaga. Time to go make the impossible possible, eh? I'm heading out."_

_"That makes two of us,"_ Sophia DiFalco agreed. _"Now engaging."_

Last, but by no means least, were Strike Rouge and Preybird. _"You ready for this, partner?"_ Cagalli called. _"This is the moment you've been waiting for..."_

_"Ready as I'll ever be,"_ Ken said, sounding curiously cocky. _"Murrue, we're going now."_

Murrue nodded. "Good luck out there, Ken... and don't die on me."

He grinned. _"Hey, I promised, didn't I?"_ His eye narrowed. _"MBF-02 Strike Rouge and ZGMF-X00A Preybird, launching!"_

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Azrael cursed mildly. He'd been utterly delighted by the sight of Boaz being blasted into space dust, but this latest development went a long way towards spoiling his good mood. "So they made it after all," he said grumpily. "I was hoping that bastard DiFalco would realize he doesn't have a prayer here." 

"Maybe he thinks he's got something up his sleeve," Hamilton suggested. "Not that it matters Six ships and two or three dozen mobile suits are nothing compared to what we have, even after the losses we took getting to Boaz. And since ZAFT is hardly friendly to them, either..."

Azrael sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right, Admiral. Doesn't make me any happier to see them, though. Communications," he said abruptly, "get me the _Doolittle."_

_"You called, Director?"_ Rear Admiral William Sutherland said, a few moments later.

"I did," the Director acknowledged. "Admiral, I'd be much obliged if you'd dedicate a few nuclear weapons to those annoying flies who just turned up. We wouldn't them to spoil the party, now would we?"

_"Of course, Director,"_ Sutherland agreed amiably. _"We'll get right on it."_

Azrael smiled to himself. "Maybe this isn't so bad after all. Saves us the trouble of having to hunt them down later, now doesn't it?"

* * *

Jachin Due, Command Center

* * *

Patrick Zala scowled at the massive displays hanging on the wall before him. _I should've known you'd be here, Falcon. Everything was going just fine; the Earth Forces are right where we want them, after that last attack. And now _you_ have to turn up, to try and blunt our victory. I curse the day I ever called you "friend", Falcon!_

"Your Excellency?" a soldier said carefully. "The Earth Forces are moving off, Mister Chairman."

"It won't be for long," Zala said dismissively. "They're just taking the time to recharge their mobile suits, and rearm their mobile armors. They'll be back; and in the meantime, I see Commander DiFalco's so-called 'True ZAFT' forces have shown up." He gritted his teeth in irritation. "They're going to throw a wrench into things."

"Wh... what do we do about them, Sir?"

"We wait," Zala said decisively. "For a few minutes, at least. And then... prepare to begin activation of GENESIS on my command. I think we can use observed divisions in their command structure to our advantage."

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due

* * *

Ken DiFalco looked out at the assembled firepower, and felt something akin to awe. His forces -his comrades- might be a pitiful number next to the massive amounts of troops and ships the Earth Alliance and ZAFT could bring to bear, but they were all elite; only the best of the best could've survived this long, and they were all dedicated to one goal. 

Now they floated together, arrayed in ranks before the six ships that had brought them here, and awaited only the order to engage the enemy... but first, the ace had one last speech to make.

"All right, people," he began. "First of all, I know you're probably expecting another long-winded speech from me. Well, I'd love to oblige, but we're a little short on time here, so I'll have to keep this even shorter. We all came here for our own reasons, with our own individual experiences having made us leave the organizations we once served with the willingness to lose our lives for them, if we had to. Today, we're here with the knowledge that either side would just throw us away for no purpose... and they themselves have set themselves upon a path of genocide. That's what we're here to stop... so all I have to say is this." He took a deep breath. "Now for wrath, now for ruin, and a red dawn. _Engage the enemy!"_

Preybird's massive Gerbera Straight flashed out of its sheath, and the crimson-and-gray machine led the charge toward the waiting enemy forces.

It was Earth Forces Strike Daggers that they reached first; Hamilton had redeployed his machines as soon as the True ZAFT forces had launched, and now awaited only the Peacemaker Force before making another attack on the PLANTs. In the meantime, he intended to make the advance as costly on Ken's people as possible.

The machines of True ZAFT, however, made things confusing, for not all of them were headed in the same direction. Freedom and Justice, having linked up with the METEOR units, followed Preybird straight ahead, toward Jachin itself, but the GuAIZs from _Arkbird, Eternal,_ and _Asmodeus_ streaked off for a large concentration of _Nazca _and _Laurasia_-class ships, and their own accompanying mobile suits, while the Astrays stayed with the ships to function as Combat Aerospace Patrol. Meanwhile, most of the rest of _Archangel_'s PSA-equipped units headed for the massive Earth Forces fleets, and Nicol, Leanne, and Shiho sped off for another concentration of ZAFT forces.

Ken and his comrades had realized long before the battle arrived that they simply didn't have enough firepower to try a massed attack; so their only alternative was to attempt to be everywhere at once, which was what this radical breakup of forces was for. Even as the mobile suits went hunting for the enemy's mobile forces, the ships were splitting into pairs, dispersing in an attempt to flank the location where Ken believed GENESIS waited, under Mirage Colloid cloaking. They would do what they could to batter at the device themselves, and even if they failed to destroy it, they would at least help prepare the way for Preybird.

And Preybird itself swiftly began to wreak havoc all its own.

* * *

Kira Yamato watched the events with concern. He was cutting something of a swath himself, with the METEOR's many weapons, but they were all intended as disabling shots. Preybird, however... Ken was fighting in a way he'd never seen before, combing his usual precision with a flair, a passion for the battle itself that disturbed him. Even as he watched, a CGUE tried to intercept the speeding Preybird, only to have the Gerbera slice him in half from left hip to right shoulder in a blaze of sparks and rain of debris. There was a brief scream from the ZAFT pilot, and then... silence. The eerie silence left only by the dead. 

_What are you doing?_ Kira wanted to demand of his mentor. _They're no match for you; there's no reason to kill them just for following orders! You're good enough to just knock them out of the fight without all this killing!_ Ken's Tolkien quote just before giving the order to engage had been inspiring, all right; but it had also been, to Kira, an unpleasant indicator of how the ace was thinking right now.

_Something's wrong here, too,_ he thought. _This is... too simple, somehow. Is he about to lead us into another trap, like the Zantetsuken mission?_

"Watch it, Kira," Athrun warned then, his METEOR-equipped machine rolling to the right and pummeling a GuAIZ that had been going for Freedom's underside. His shot, too, was fatal; but Athrun had been rushed, unlike Ken's cold, deliberate lethality.

"Thanks, Athrun," Kira radioed, and fired off another burst of his own, a spread of missiles that ripped into a cluster of Alliance units. "Do you see the Earth Forces G-weapons anywhere?"

"Not yet; but I'm sure they're out here somewhere." Justice's pilot glanced around. "They probably just haven't penetrated this deep into ZAFT's lines yet; remember, the whole reason we launched the attack when we did was because the Earth Forces were busy regrouping." He hesitated. "Kira... I'm gonna break off for a minute, okay? I need to get into radio range of Jachin Due."

Kira blinked. "Why-? Oh. Go ahead, Athrun; I'll keep them busy here." _He must want to talk to his father,_ he realized. _While he still has time..._

As Justice broke off, he could see Preybird's rail cannons go off, targeted precisely on an old GINN's cockpit. There was no chance for escape before the armor-piercing slugs slammed through the obsolete unit.

Almost unconsciously, Kira's left hand moved to the controls that would separate Freedom from its METEOR at need...

* * *

Jachin Due, Command Center

* * *

"So here they come," Zala muttered. "Falcon, you bastard..." 

"Your Excellency," a communications technician called, "we have an incoming transmission from one of the enemy mobile suits. It identifies itself as the ZGMF-X09A Justice, and the pilot asks to speak with you." The tech swallowed. "He claims to be Athrun Zala..."

"Put him on," the Chairman ordered instantly. "Athrun! What are you doing here, in the company of DiFalco's traitors?"

On the screen that had just lit up with his face, Athrun flinched; this was not how he'd hoped to start the conversation. _"It's a long story, Father,"_ he managed at last. _"It began when I followed my orders, and located the Freedom, and its pilot..."_

"Yes," Zala said angrily, "and why didn't you finish the rest of your mission? You were ordered to destroy it and all those who came into contact with it, not join forces with it!"

_"You'd order me to kill my best friend?"_ Athrun demanded, gaining confidence from his own rising anger. _"I thought out mission was to liberate the PLANTs, Father, not kill everyone who gets in the way! The mission was liberation, not subjugation!"_

"You've been listening to DiFalco too much, I see," Zala retorted, eyes narrow. "Subjugating the Naturals is the_least_ that we must; nothing less could guarantee our freedom. That's something Falcon never understood, despite the loss he himself suffered at the Bloody Valentine." He sneered at his son. "So what are you doing here now, Athrun? You've obviously betrayed, so what did you hope to accomplish by talking to me?"

Athrun's face fell. _"I'd hoped to find some trace of my father within you, Chairman,"_ he said quietly. _"I thought maybe I could still get through to you. I guess I was wrong..."_ He met his father's eyes. _"I'm sorry, Father, but now I'll do what I have to. I'll oppose you, as long as there's breath in my body."_

"There won't be for long," the Chairman said shortly. "You're not my son anymore." He looked over at another technician. "Drop GENESIS' Mirage Colloid," he ordered. "And activate its phase-shift armor."

Athrun's eyes went wide. _"Father! No, you can't-"_

"Don't call me father," Zala said harshly. "I told you, you're not my son. You've been corrupted, just like Falcon... so now the both of you can just die!" He glanced over his shoulder, where a figure lurked in the shadows. "Le Creuset," he said, voice too low to be picked up by the microphones, "get out there. If Falcon survives this, take him out... along with my wayward son."

"Yes, Your Excellency." With a hidden smile, Rau Le Creuset turned and slipped out of the room... as, outside, matters came to a conclusion that had been approaching for months.

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due

* * *

Ken, even as he fought his way toward where he knew his target lay, had been monitoring the transmissions between Justice and Jachin, and now his blood ran cold. _He's really going to do it,_ he thought in sudden fury. _He's going to fire my cursed creation... that bastard! I have to stop him!_

With an even greater ferocity than before, he threw Preybird forward. Exercising a skill seldom seen before -for now all of Preybird's inhibitions had been dropped- he drove inward, flashing toward the interior of the ZAFT defensive lines with an almost reckless haste. A trio of GuAIZs blocked his path, and his blade licked out; one received a deep slash through the cockpit on the first pass, and the other two were viciously bisected when Preybird made a full circle.

Continuing on his way, his DRAGOON system deployed, seeking targets; his rail cannons unfolded, began to fire-

And one of them was suddenly melted away by an emerald dart. "Stop it, Falcon!"

Ken's head came around, and his eye widened to see Freedom advancing on him. No longer encumbered by the METEOR unit, all its long-range weapons were deployed... and all of them were locked onto the Preybird. "What do you think you're doing, Kira?" he demanded. "Stand down!"

"_I_ should be the one saying that," Kira shot back. "Think about what you're doing, why don't you!"

"What I'm doing is trying to stop Patrick from immolating us all," Ken said harshly. "What I want to know is what_ you're_ doing."

"Vengeance isn't the answer, Falcon," Kira told him, eyes flashing. "This isn't about stopping GENESIS any more, and I won't let you slaughter people like this for no reason!"

The ace almost gaped. "No reason? You're out of your mind. They're in the way, and if I let them kill me, we _all _lose, and you_ know_ it, Kira!"

"I don't believe what you're doing is necessary," Kira replied. "You may _think_ you're doing this to stop the killing, but all you're _really_ doing is causing more killing yourself. And I won't let you, Falcon. I won't!"

Preybird turned to face Freedom directly, and the DRAGOON units began rotating around its vertical axis, all forty emitters aimed at the same spot. "You're going to stand in my way, then, are you?" Ken said dangerously.

"If it's the only way to stop what you've become, yes," Kira said unflinchingly. "When we first fought together, I admired you, Falcon. But now you've lost sight of what brought you here, and if you don't stand down... I'll have no choice but to shoot you."

Ken's eye narrowed, a dangerous light within it, and Preybird's Gerbera Straight rose vertically before it. "You have no idea what it is you're doing, Kira," he whispered. "The stakes are too high for this. But if you want to risk losing everything we've _both_ fought for... _then on your head be it!"_

Preybird and Freedom ignited their verniers, and charged...

* * *

Author's note: The Second Battle of Jachin Due has arrived at last. Boaz is gone in the nuclear inferno, and the true battle has begun; Athrun has lost his last chance to bring his father back... and now other problems have surfaced. Will this divisive fire cost them everything they've fought for? 

All right, I know, this chapter is _really_ late. Well, as you can see it's a long one, and I was a little distracted recently (that's the problem with Metal Gear; it takes up too much of my time...). In any case, I shall endeavor to bring you Chapter 44: The Fallen in a more timely fashion... and in the meantime, I hope _this_ chapter was... interesting, shall we say? Anyway, let me know what you think. -Solid Shark


	44. Chapter 44: The Fallen

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

I also do not own the _Odin;_ it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

Jachin Due, Pilot's Locker Room/Hangar, September 26th, C.E. 71

* * *

The man ZAFT knew as Commander Rau Le Creuset, whose current name meant "The Crucible" -and who refused to ever use the name he'd been born with, Aru La Flaga- fastened his white commander's flightsuit, and paused, looking into his locker. Specifically, at a bottle of pills...

Shrugging, he opened the bottle, downed the entire contents, and washed it down from a zero-g water bottle. _It may be an overdose,_ he thought, almost clinically, _but it's not as if it's going to matter any longer. This will keep me going long enough to finish the job..._

Le Creuset turned, and made his way out of the locker room, toward a special hangar. He had one last task to complete... or two, if he had his way. He'd settle for destroying the world, but there was one man he wanted to deal with personally. "Do try to stay alive a little longer, Falcon," he murmured, with a secret smile. "It's our destiny to face each other, you know; I'd hate for us to disappoint each other." He knew that, even with GENESIS foremost in his mind, his old rival would want to face him personally; settle the old score. And besides, they _were_ family.

He entered the hangar at a brisk but even pace, and was met by a technician, who swiftly saluted. "Commander Le Creuset," the man greeted. "Here to test the machine in combat, Sir?"

"I certainly intend to," Le Creuset confirmed. "Tell me, how _is_ the unit?"

"Spotless, Commander," the tech replied promptly, and smiled. "But I suppose you want the technical details. As you know, the ZGMF-X13A Providence was created in reaction to Commander DiFalco's X00A Preybird, by order of Chairman Zala. The unit's basic frame was constructed from the same base design as the other ZGMF-X units, and then much of the technology DiFalco's X00A project leaked to us was added, such as much of the internal systems, and the software. Additionally, from observational data of the Preybird in action, we've created our own version of a system called 'Disconnected Rapid Armament Group Overlook Operation Network', or 'DRAGOON' system."

Le Creuset nodded. "Yes, I'm familiar with it; Falcon tends to use it sparingly, but it's obviously very effective when in operation."

"Such was our own conclusion, Sir. You'll note that Providence is equipped with eleven DRAGOON units, with a total of forty-three beam emitters; this should give you and advantage, should you run into Preybird, as from what we've seen that unit has only ten units, with forty emitters." The tech paused. "You realize, though, Commander, that this system requires certain... unusual capabilities to make use of it."

The masked commander smiled. "Don't worry. Anything the Grimaldi Falcon or Hawk of Endymion can do, I'm sure I can do just as well." He shoved off toward the Providence's hatch, and glanced back. "Good work, soldier; your efforts will be much appreciated." _And, Falcon... don't you dare die before you and I can meet one last time in battle..._

_

* * *

_

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due

* * *

It was an event that could've been predicted months earlier by an astute observer, and yet it would still have come as a total shock.

ZGMF-X00A Preybird and ZGMF-X10A Freedom rushed each other, weapons out... and not at all in the spirit of practice. The two pilots were clearly in earnest, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. No one was in that patch of space save for the two combatants and a number of ZAFT mobile suits who were, for the moment, too surprised to take advantage of the situation.

Kira Yamato had realized very quickly what his opponent intended to do with the Gerbera Straight he held in both hands, and had hurriedly put away his beam rifle. Now he held a beam saber in a two-handed grip -not as easy as for Preybird, since he actually had a physical shield- and he let out a yell as his machine and its opponent raced to meet each other.

Ken DiFalco's right eye blazed with controlled anger, both at Patrick Zala's actions and his own student's insane attack, and he made no attempt to slow down. Physical blade clashed with energy, and they were locked for an instant, blade against blade. "You don't know what you're doing, Kira," he said through gritted teeth. "You're out of your mind!"

"You're wrong," Kira shot back, feeding more power to Freedom's verniers in an attempt to force Preybird back. "You're the one who's lost it, Falcon. I admired you, learned from you, and now you've become nothing but a murderer!"

"There's a difference between murder and war," Ken grunted, shoving right back. "And if you think you can defeat me, you obviously haven't been paying attention."

Freedom flung itself back suddenly, causing Preybird to blaze past before its pilot could compensate for the launch of equal pressure. "You're the one who said I could be even better than you," Kira said fiercely, readying his beam rifle again. "You said yourself I was the quickest study you ever saw."

"There's a difference between skill and success, Kira," the ace informed him, boosting away; taking one hand from the Gerbera's grip, he took a moment to rip away the melted stump of his left rail cannon, destroyed in Kira's first attack. "I taught you technique, and I tried to teach you the mentality, but you obviously never listened."

"If listening would've made me like you, I'm glad I didn't!" Kira unfolded his weapons, and sent a blaze of energy fire and a hail of railgun slugs at his erstwhile mentor. "You're killing people for no reason but to avenge yourself, and that's something I can't allow!"

Preybird's arms crossed, and the light-wave shields that blazed to life intercepted the fiery assault. "This isn't vengeance, Kira," Ken disputed. "This is a necessary expedient; and if you were a soldier, you'd understand that a soldier's job isn't to die for his country. It's to make the other guy die for his!" He sheathed the Gerbera, lifted both beam rifles, and unfolded his remaining rail cannon. Then his DRAGOON units pointed straight forward... and the twin satellite cannon barrels snapped up to firing position.

Kira's eyes widened at the moment the ace pulled his triggers. Forty-two emerald streaks scorched through space toward him, along with a burst of slugs... and a pair of low-powered antimatter bolts spat from the Nataraja. _He can fire smaller shots from reactor power alone,_ he realized. _I never knew he could _do_ that..._ He threw Freedom into a series of wild, tumbling evasive maneuvers, desperately weaving through the web of emerald and orange fire. He allowed the rail cannon slugs to connect -with Freedom's PSA, they were nothing more than a distraction- and splattered many, many beams on his shield. The bolts of antimatter annihilation -which would've blown even Freedom apart with ease- streaked harmlessly past.

_That's one thing to remember: I'm better than he is, long-range. If I can just stop him from closing the distance..._That was easier said than done, though; for all that Ken might not be the best shot in the world, he was very good at_ avoiding_ fire. It was how he'd survived the long months of battle, first against the Earth Forces, then his own people, and now both sides..

A GuAIZ, deciding to take advantage of the incomprehensible but useful battle between two of his enemies, slashed across space toward them, firing its beam rifle; an instant later, it tumbled away, plasma and laser fire having smashed its head and arms to splinters.

Having dealt with the momentary distraction, Freedom directed its weapons toward Preybird again, and Kira glared at his mentor's machine. "How do you expect to end the bloodshed with an attitude like that?" he demanded. "The killing has to stop somewhere!"

"Not my problem," Ken shot back; his DRAGOON units returned to his wings, and he fired another double barrage from his rifles. "'War is diplomacy continued by non-diplomatic means'; that's what Clausewitz said, Kira, and if there's one thing I've learned in this war, it's that history never lies. My job is making war; I leave making peace to politicians like Chairman Clyne. I'm not good enough at that kind of double talk."

Freedom caught the twin emerald darts on its shield, and Kira sent a pair of plasma bolts back his way. One connected, melting away Preybird's remaining Xiphias. "You were good enough at it to get us all out here," he said in rebuttal. "You manipulated us to get us here to do what _you_ wanted us to!"

Preybird put away its left-hand Talon rifle, and snatched out a beam boomerang. "Don't try to tell me you didn't walk into this with your eyes wide open, Kira," ken said coldly. "I won't deny I used you, but you -_all_ of you- knew I was doing it, and not one of you tried to stop me. And be honest with yourself," he added, tossing the spinning energy blade. "Where would you've gotten without my help? _Our_ help? With Freedom alone, you wouldn't have gotten anywhere at all. Oh, _Eternal_ might've thrown in with you, but what could one ship and one mobile suit do?"

"Maybe I did walk into it," Kira conceded angrily, "but if I'd known what you'd do once we got here, I would've stopped you long ago!" He fired a single, precise beam, and the beam boomerang vanished in a puff of vaporized metal. Then, with barely a pause, he fired another full barrage from his ranged weapons, and had the satisfaction of seeing Preybird's right-hand Talon be torn to splinters.

Ken saw that, and snorted in disgust. "You've forgotten everything I taught you, I see," he said contemptuously. "Didn't I tell you to choose your own course, your own path, and follow it through to the end?"

"You did," Kira acknowledged. "And by stopping you from murdering these people, that's exactly what I'm doing!"

"This isn't murder, this is war," the ace told him icily, "and you're wrong. You're still trying to disable me, and _that_ is where your greatest weakness lies. You've strayed from the path you chose, because unless you kill me, your path will _fail..._ because the _only_ way to stop me is to kill me!" He lifted his remaining Talon, and pulled out his remaining boomerang. The former he trained on Freedom; the latter he threw at a CGUE that was doggedly blasting at him. Over the radio, there was brief scream as the weapon bit deep into the CGUE's cockpit, and exploded. Then there was silence...

"There are ways of stopping you besides killing you," Kira argued, inwardly sickened by how easily his former friend had consigned his enemy to death. "Just knocking you out of the fight-"

"I'd like to see you try!" Preybird caught the boomerang when it came around again, boosted toward Freedom, and hurled the weapon once more. "The Grimaldi Falcon you might've won against, but I guess you didn't get the memo: he isn't here anymore."

Kira smashed the boomerang to useless junk with his shield, and blew a CGUE's rifle to splinters with his own when it tried to get close. "What are you talking about?" he demanded now; this battle had gone beyond the immediate issue of Ken's "murderous" attack, and in the heat of the moment had expanded to cover every disagreement they'd ever had, congealed into one brutal argument. "What you mean, you're not here anymore?"

"I didn't say _I_ wasn't here anymore," Ken corrected, seemingly unperturbed by the loss of his second beam boomerang; he now switched the rifle back to Preybird's "dominant" hand. "I said the Grimaldi Falcon isn't. You just don't get it, Kira, do you? I locked away my humanity after the Bloody Valentine, became the elemental force of nature people knew as the Grimaldi Falcon; but with my humanity went my passion, my drive to succeed, and survive. Against an enemy like you, I might actually have been disabled. Victor nearly managed it more than once. But today..." Behind his helmet, he smiled savagely. "Today I've given that up, and now you face Ken DiFalco the man, not Falcon the legend. Only death will stop me now... and in this battle, neither will alone nor strength alone will be enough." Almost as an afterthought, he spun around, pointed the Talon back over his shoulder, and fired, showing that for all his preference for blades he knew how to shoot, too.

Kira cursed to himself, as the beam went straight down the barrel of his own right-side Xiphias rail cannon. Metal warped and melted, control runs and power relays sparked and went out, and the remaining projectiles in storage converted themselves to rapidly-expanding gas. "I knew all about that," he shot back at the ace, literally firing back at the same time with his Lupus. "If I didn't have the strength or will, I wouldn't be here!"

The emerald dart turned Ken's remaining Talon to scrap and free-floating hydrogen, leaving Preybird with only its DRAGOON system and twin satellite cannon for ranged weapons; but to Ken DiFalco, the loss of mere guns was nothing more than an inconvenience. "You just proved yourself wrong," he informed his old student. "Freedom and your own skills -which even I acknowledge- are your strength, but you have not the will to end this fight. Only when you understand that sometimes a killing blow _must_ be struck will you be able to defeat me." He drew the Gerbera once more, and charged...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"What's the situation out there, CIC?" Murrue asked, voice and face intent.

"Unclear, Captain," Natarle replied. "The Earth Forces Fourth Fleet seems to be the only one actively engaging in combat operations at this time; Fifth and Seventh appear to be busy rearming mobile armors."

"Best guess is that Fourth is the vanguard," Sai concurred, "while Fifth and Seventh are the support for the Peacemaker Force. At least, there's where most of the ECM and ECCM is coming from, as well as numerous weapons-grade radiation signatures."

Murrue nodded. "What about ZAFT?"

"That's even less clear, Captain. A number of their forces seem to be engaging ours, but there's been less activity than Falcon suggested we should expect. Ever since that transmission about GENESIS..."

She closed her eyes. "I understand, Sai." _They're getting ready to fire that thing, and want to be able to pull their people out of the line of fire as fast as possible. Smart..._

Behind her, Flay stiffened. "Captain! Receiving anomalous transmissions from Freedom and Preybird!"

Murrue turned in her chair, surprised; Flay never said things like "anomalous". "What do you mean, Flay? What's going on?"

The redhead didn't respond in words. Instead, she simply patched the signals through to a speaker, and the Captain felt her eyes widen in shock. _"-strayed from the path you chose, because unless you kill me, your path will fail... because the _only_ way to stop me is to kill me!"_

_"There are ways of stopping you besides killing you. Just knocking you out of the fight-"_

_"I'd like to see you try!"_

The blood drained from Murrue's face, hearing those words, and the ones that followed. "What's happened out there?" she whispered. "Are they...?"

Sai swallowed audibly. "Confirmed, Captain. Freedom and Preybird are being attacked by several dozen ZAFT machines... and appear to be firing upon each other. Both units have also received damage-"

"Confirmed," Mir cut in, reading the telemetry from the two machines. "Freedom has lost one rail cannon, and Preybird... Preybird has lost all long-range weapons save the DRAGOON system and twin satellite cannon." Her expression, like that of just about everyone else on the Bridge, was more than a little shell-shocked. She knew as well as anyone among the six vessels the strain that had come between the two pilots, but _this...!_

Natarle, unsurprisingly, was the one who kept her cool. "Is there anyone in range to break it up?" she said curtly. "I don't care who started it, or why, but this is something we can't afford."

Mir hastily consulted her telemetry data. "Just the Justice, Ma'am," she said after a moment. "As per pre-battle planning, most of our units are scattered, and even Athrun's machine is a little ways away, closer to Jachin itself..."

"It'll have to do," Murrue said decisively. "Get me Athrun." From what she'd heard so far, she had a good idea of what all the shooting was about -even if she still couldn't figure out what had triggered it in the first place- and she honestly wasn't sure which side was truly in the "right" of this one. She rather thought Ken was making telling points, but under the circumstances... and they certainly couldn't afford to have their two best pilots shoot each other down!

_I just hope Athrun can get to them in time..._

_

* * *

_

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due

* * *

Athrun felt a wave of despair roll through him at his father's final words. _"Don't call me father. I told you, you're not my son. You've been corrupted, just like Falcon... so now the both of you can just die!"_

_I've failed,_ he thought sickly. _I've failed my father, my best friend, the Commander, and Lacus... and my mother. My father's nothing but a shell now... there's nothing left of the man I once called father. Is it... is any of this because I betrayed him?_ A spasm of pain gripped him at the thought. _Because I left to stop him... did I push him completely over the edge?_

The thought wasn't a happy one. His thoughts usually weren't these days, however much he tried to hide it, but this was even worse...

Luckily for Athrun Zala's sanity, his helmet speakers crackled with static. _"Athrun, do you read me?"_ Murrue called. _"We have a situation , and you're the only one who can help."_

He sobered instantly, professionalism pulling him back into the job at hand. "What's going on?" he asked calmly. "I don't see anything from here, but you sound-"

_"It's Kira and Ken,"_ she said bluntly. _"I don't know what started it, but now they're trying to kill each other!"_

Athrun blinked in shock. "What? But- I know they've had their problems, but this is crazy! And Kira doesn't kill! Ever since we nearly killed each other, he's..."

_"I know, and I don't understand it either. I think Kira's trying to end this without any killing, but Ken... You _know_ him, Athrun! He doesn't lightly shoot at a comrade, but if that comrade is trying to get in the way of his mission, he'll do whatever it takes!"_ She swallowed hard. _"If you don't stop them, Athrun, one of them is going to..."_

_Going to end up dead,_ Athrun completed mentally. _Yeah; probably Kira._ He didn't know what was going on, but he did have a healthy respect for Ken DiFalco's skills... and a certain knowledge of how Kira's own ideals would hamper him in this fight. "All right, Captain, I'm on my way." Even as he spoke, he angled Justice toward the fight and fed power to the METEOR's thrusters. "But... aren't _you_ going to try speaking to him?"

_"I just tried,"_ Murrue answered, _"but Ken's got some kind of lock running on the system right now; we've never seen anything like it. We can hear him, but he's not listening to anyone but Kira right now; I guess he's determined to see this through without interruptions. Flay's working on a way around it, though-"_

Her voice suddenly vanished in a burst of static, and Athrun's eyes widened. "No," he whispered, darting a glance at his displays. "Dead Zone..."

He didn't know how the Earth Forces had noticed the situation -or how they'd applied the effect from so far out- nor why they chose to take advantage in quite this manner, but he knew exactly _what_ had happened: the Earth Forces -probably from the vanguard Fourth Fleet- had just activated a portion of the ECM effect they'd used to attempt -and nearly succeed- to trap and destroy the _Archangel_ over a month earlier. The effect called Dead Zone. If the sudden loss of long-range radio was any indication, things were about to get a lot hairier... and now there was no chance of talking Ken and Kira out of their fight. He had to stop them himself, by force...

Athrun was so caught up in these thoughts, as he raced toward the two battling machines, that only trained reflexes kept him from being obliterated by the beam blast from nowhere. The emerald dart came from "above", and had Justice not pulled a hard left, it would've gone straight into the cockpit... and just incidentally vaporized one Athrun Zala.

When his mind had assimilated the event and returned to the present, he glanced quickly around and found a dark-blue-and-gray mobile suit coming toward him. It was equipped with some kind of peculiar spiked backpack, a humongous beam rifle, and some sort of combined weapons system over its left arm. "What _is_ that?" Athrun wondered aloud. "A new ZAFT model...?"

The voice that came over his radio, only slightly tinged with static, caused a ball of ice to form in his gut. "Well, well, if it isn't Athrun Zala," Rau Le Creuset said pleasantly. "I hoped I'd run into you, Athrun; it's been a long time since we saw each other."

"Rau Le Creuset," Athrun whispered. "What are you doing here, Commander?" he demanded. "I don't have time to deal with you right now."

"Oh, what a shame; no time to catch up with your old commander?" Le Creuset chuckled. "Actually, Athrun, I believe we have plenty of time... since, after all, you're heading to interfere with Falcon and your friend Kira, and that's something I can't allow."

Justice's pilot glared. "I'd like to see you try and stop me," he said coldly. "Get out of my way, or die."

Another chuckle. "Well, at least you're confident, Athrun. This should be most enjoyable." The spikes on the backpack, as well as several waist-mounted units, detached, and began to move around Providence independently. "Let's see how you do, shall we?"

Athrun winced, recognizing now what the spikes had to be. _A DRAGOON system,_ he thought grimly. _An improved model of Preybird's most lethal weapon... which means this could get ugly._ "All right, Commander," he said aloud. "Let's do this. If you won't get out of my way, then I'll force my way through!" Feeding more power into the METEOR's thrusters, he charged forward, firing his full armament... and the storm of emerald fire began to weave its deadly dance around him.

* * *

_Odin,_ Bridge

* * *

Lewis Halberton cursed as communications went down. "That's not good," he muttered. "Jason, was that what I think it was?"

Jason Chance nodded unhappily. "I'm afraid so, Admiral. They've activated part of the Dead Zone effect. We're not affected by it, but since we weren't able to complete the modifications to the other ships and the mobile suits, well..."

Halberton nodded grimly. _All well and good that _we_ can function properly,_ he thought bitterly. _But that doesn't help us coordinate our efforts when the other ships can't even hear us!_ "What was the last status report before communications went down?" he asked. "Is the operation still on track?"

"Not sure." Chance bent over his displays, oblivious to a _Laurasia_ being obliterated by their single Lohengrin beyond the viewport. "Last transmission from _Archangel_ indicated something was going on between Freedom and Preybird, but they were cut off before they could finish. Beyond that, I can only say that everything seems okay in our sector; Morgan is starting to pull ahead -looks like something got his attention out that way- and _Arkbird_ is still off our port- Wait, _Arkbird_ is beginning to move away!"

Halberton was on the radio in an instant (the _Arkbird_ being close enough to reach even through the interference). "_Arkbird,_ this is Halberton. Sparky, just where do you think you're going? You're leaving formation!"

Sparky Cooper's face appeared on the monitor, and he nodded somberly. _"I know, Admiral,"_ he said quietly,_"and I'm sorry we're going to be leaving you unattended. But this is something more important, something we have to do for the Boss."_ He paused. _"We're setting course for Jachin Due itself, Sir."_

"Are you insane?" Chance demanded bluntly. "One ship has no hope of taking out _that_ all by itself! Your weapons would be slag by then, and even if they weren't, the only way to inflict catastrophic damage would be to-" He broke off suddenly, eyes wide. "Wait, you can't mean...!"

Sparky nodded again. _"'Fraid so, Jason. We're accelerating to ramming speed even now."_

Halberton met his gaze. "You realize Patrick Zala isn't the only man on that rock, Sparky, don't you? That base must have..."

_"Over two thousand people, last I heard,"_ the huge soldier agreed quietly. _"I know, and none of us like it. But there are two things that outweigh that, Admiral: if Patrick Zala is removed from the picture, along with GENESIS' controls, all that'll be left is mopping up. And besides... I have it on good authority -which I haven't told the Boss- that that lunatic's set up Jachin to self-destruct if GENESIS is destroyed."_

Chance stiffened in his chair. "What? But why?"

Sparky shrugged. _"Who knows what goes through the mind of a madman? But if I had to guess, I'd say we're not the only people dealing in throw-of-the-dice operations. I think Patrick thinks that if GENESIS is dealt with, his last card will be gone, and there'll be nothing left for him, or for his people. Crazy, yeah, but then so is he."_

Halberton closed his eyes. _And so this is what it's like to watch a friend go willingly to his death, in order to stop a greater evil... and so another of the Gray Demons will pass from this life._ He looked up. "Godspeed, Lance," he said softly.

_"Thank you, Admiral. From all of us."_ Behind the big man, his far smaller female exec nodded agreement... and then they vanished.

Jason Chance swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I can't believe it," he whispered. "Are they... are they really going to go through with this, Admiral?"

"Yes, Jason," Halberton said heavily, "they are. The Gray Demons, one and all, set the survival of the PLANTs over all else; and loyalty to their commander comes in a close second. They'll fly all the way to hell for him and them, if they have to, and if that means they have to fly their ship into an asteroid, so be it."

"But can they actually do it?" the captain wanted to know. "I know what I said, but even a ramming attack..."

Halberton smiled sadly. "Don't forget, Jason: the _Arkbird,_ like the _Asmodeus_ and most of True ZAFT's mobile suits, is nuclear powered. There'll be no supercritical detonation, but even a nuclear meltdown will provide a most satisfactory explosion."

Chance swallowed again. "This day had better be remembered by history," he said hoarsely. "Good men are going to their deaths, and if I have anything to say about it, their names will never be forgotten!"

The admiral nodded, still with that sad smile. "I agree completely, Jason. Now..." He looked back at the fire-control officer. "Lieutenant, make sure everything's in working order. We're going to do our best to make sure _Arkbird_ gets through to her target!"

"Yes, Sir!"

* * *

Jachin Due, Command Center

* * *

"How long until we can fire GENESIS?" Zala demanded. "We must use it as soon as possible, if we're going to win this battle."

"Dropping Mirage Colloid now, Your Excellency," a tech replied. "Activating phase-shift armor, all layers; firing capability estimated within thirty seconds."

The Chairman smiled, watching GENESIS reveal itself on the main display, a blue tint flowing across it in the distinctive pattern of PSA activation. "Very good. As soon as it's ready, advise our forces to get clear of the firing line. I want it targeted on the Earth Forces Fourth Fleet... through the location of ZGMF-X00A Preybird."

"Yes, Your Excellency!"

_Soon,_ Zala thought. _Soon, it will all be over... The Earth Forces -and maybe even the Earth itself- will be wiped away, my traitor of a "son" will be dead... and, perhaps best of all, that bastard Falcon will be gone for good. He was useful while he lasted, but now he's nothing more than an irritant. Those ships of his are like hyenas, nipping at our heels, but soon we'll bring _them_ to heel..._

Yes, this would indeed be a day of reckoning.

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Azrael smiled to himself, seeing the signs of confusion among True ZAFT's ranks. ZAFT itself, and the Coordinator Homeland, was his true target, but getting rid of DiFalco's pack of rats was a worthy goal in itself. They'd been a nuisance for far too long now...

"It appears Dead Zone is leaving them a bit befuddled," he remarked to his tame admiral. "You'd think they'd learn, but I guess that's too much to expect..."

"Don't underestimate DiFalco's people, Director," Hamilton warned. "I agree they're becoming more disorganized now, but it's not as bad as Castor's final report indicated the confusion was the last time Dead Zone was employed. Of course," he went on thoughtfully, "that day we were able to employ the full effect; here at Jachin, only the radio jamming is practical. Pity."

"I'll take what I can get," Azrael said dryly. "By the way, what's the status on rearming the Peacemaker Force? I want to get those nukes out there as soon as possible."

The admiral consulted his armrest screen. "Shouldn't be long now, Director," he answered after a moment. "I'd say five minutes at worst, and then we'll be ready to send them out again. I estimate the biological CPUs will reach True ZAFT's forces at about the same time, and then things will get _really_ interesting."

"Yes," the Director agreed, "it's always nice to have a diversion-"

"Admiral!" _Dominion_'s detection officer broke in. "Something else just appeared near Jachin Due, out of Mirage Colloid. Computer can't tell what it is, but it's huge, Sir!"

"Show me," Hamilton ordered, and an enlarged image appeared on the main screen. It was still too far to see much detail, but it appeared to be some kind of giant mirror... "Director," he said abruptly, a cold feeling spreading through him, "you're the weapons' industry expert. Can you tell me what use a mirror over three hundred meters in diameter would be in a combat situation?"

Azrael frowned. "A giant mirror? I guess they could be trying to pull the stunt Archimedes supposedly did, by focusing the sun's rays at us; but ZAFT should know that even if it worked at all, it wouldn't work well... and they're not the types to throw that much time and effort -and money- into something like that. Unless..." His eyes widened. "Lieutenant! Where's that thing facing?"

"Directly toward Fourth Fleet, Director," the detection officer replied, mildly bewildered. "Why?"

"Tell them to get out of there!" Azrael shouted in response. _"Now!"_

Hamilton turned to look at him in surprise, but began to pass the orders. "Fourth Fleet, this is _Dominion_. Get clear of that area-"

A bright glow said it was too late.

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due

* * *

"This isn't the answer, Falcon," Kira grunted, raising Freedom's left arm to ward off Preybird's Gerbera. "No one has to die here; we're trying to _stop_ the killing, not create more of it out of blind vengeance!"

"I told you, this isn't about vengeance," Ken retorted, as his slice barely missed to one side. "And what _you_don't understand is that in war, people die! There's nothing you can do about that. Look at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, why don't you!"

"Are you saying nuclear weapons are the answer?" Kira questioned, as the ace swung again. "And what do you think they're gonna do against phase-shift with- What the-!" He stiffened in shock as some kind of bright flash momentarily lit the blade as it connected with Freedom's forearm... and a chunk of armor came away spiraling out into space. "That's not-"

"Possible?" Ken finished. "Know yourself, know your enemy. Sun Tzu said that millennia ago, and he's still right today. I suspected I couldn't completely trust you, Kira, so I had my people make a couple of special modifications to Preybird without telling anyone else. One of them was an idea I got from the AMATU: a weapon covered with phase-shift will pierce phase-shift, so Tom added trans-phase armor to my Gerbera; and since it only activates on contact, there was no betraying power surge until the first time it touched phase-shift." His one-eyed gaze hardened. "You know yourself, Kira, I'll grant you that, but you clearly do not know your enemy. And," he added, almost as an aside, "I wasn't advocating the use of nuclear weapons. I was just pointing out that sometimes, a great deal of blood must be shed in order to spare of the blood of many more. This is a basic truth of war!"

"Then we should work to change it!" Kira shot back, and drew a beam saber. "You devious bastard!" he added. "You _still_ wouldn't tell us everything-"

"I had no choice," the Grimaldi Falcon said coldly. "You're a bloody good pilot, Kira, you know that? So I realized I needed an ace up my sleeve, if you ever tried anything foolish." He shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you? You can't change the nature of war, Kira. Human nature doesn't change! Decades, centuries, even millennia pass, but mankind stays the same. We have our faults, we have our virtues, and _that_ is the on constant in the world."

"Humanity _has_ changed," Kira insisted, fiery blade sweeping toward Preybird's head. "Don't tell me we haven't come a long way from the World Wars!"

"Oh, you're right about that," Ken acknowledged sardonically. "After all, even with early-generation nuclear bombs in the mix we only killed a few million people in World War Two; in the Reconstruction War, it was over a billion... and the Bloody Valentine took over two hundred thousand lives in an instant." He shook his head, parrying the stroke. "No, Kira, all that's changed is the number of people we can kill at once, and the weapons we use to do it."

"You're sounding like Le Creuset," Kira snarled at him, jabbing his blade through Preybird's left shoulder. "You're sounding _exactly_ like Le Creuset!"

The Gerbera snapped up, hard, and hacked through two of Freedom's fingers and catching the hilt of the energy blade, sending it spiraling off into the blackness. "I am _nothing_ like Rau," Ken hissed, truly angry now. "I recognize mankind's sins, just as I recognize my own. But unlike that madman, I see something in humanity worth keeping alive." Even through the screen, his Prussian blue eye burned into Kira's with fiery intensity. _"Do you think I'd come all this way to stop GENESIS if I desired humanity's destruction?"_

"Maybe not," Kira conceded, yanking out his other saber, "but that still doesn't justify the measures you've taken to get this far. The things you've done-"

"We're soldiers, Kira, we stand or we die!" Preybird caught the first stroke from the new blade on a briefly-energized light-wave barrier, and lashed out again. "War is ugly, and what soldiers do are things that civilians should never see. But someone _has_ to do them, so that others don't do things that are even worse."

"You mean things like what you're doing?" Kira demanded. "By killing everyone in your path when you can't even reach GENESIS in time?" He boosted back, and fired a barrage from his plasma cannons. "I'm trying to stop _you _from doing those things!"

Ken snorted. "Then you're delusional, Kira. Even if you _were_ right to open up on me -on your _comrade,_ as well as someone you _chose_ to serve under- you're forgetting one very important fact: you don't have what it takes to kill me."

"I'm not _trying_ to kill you!"

Preybird's CIWS fired a diversionary burst. "That's exactly my point," the ace said levelly. "If you _were_ trying to kill me, then you might have what it takes. But what you fail to understand is that when you're facing a man who will continue to fight no matter how much damage he takes, who absolutely refuses to let any infirmity get in his way, who will sacrifice _everything_ before he gives up, a killing blow is the only way to stop him."

Kira shook his head. "I don't-"

_"Falcon, this is _Odin,_ do you read me?"_ Halberton's voice suddenly blared over Preybird's radio. _"Falcon,respond!"_

Ken stiffened. "Lewis? How are you-"

_"No time for that!"_ the Admiral snapped. _"Get out of there; you're directly in the line of fire!"_

The ace's eye widened, and his head snapped around to look at the gigantic mirror hanging beside Jachin Due. "No..." he breathed. "I'm too late..."

Kira blinked in surprise -not having been able to receive Halberton's transmission- when Preybird suddenly sheathed its Gerbera, darted out a hand, and grasped Freedom's arm. "Falcon, what are you-" The sudden G-forces from being violently dragged away cut off his words... and seconds later he understood what his mentor had done.

A tremendous column of red-orange fire erupted from the weapon known as GENESIS, and as the edge of the deadly stream of gamma radiation passed over them, held back only by the light-wave bubble Preybird generated over them both, Kira Yamato began to understand what Ken DiFalco had been telling him... because at the risk of his own life, and his chance of stopping GENESIS from firing a second shot, his mentor had just saved his life.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Murrue stared at the display, and felt a lump in her throat as she swallowed hard. She thought she'd been prepared for the sight; not only had Ken described the effects in great detail, but she'd also _seen_ GENESIS Alpha in action. She had thought she knew what was coming... but she was wrong.

GENESIS Alpha had been but a pale shadow of the fury that scorched across space now. It blazed through the space where Freedom and Preybird had been dueling -only the faint sight of a glowing bubble on the fringes saved her from despair- and ripped right through the heart of the Fourth Fleet's formation. Ships and mobile suits simply came apart at the atomic level, savaged so brutally that only those at the very edges of the path of destruction left any debris at all. Men and women were torn apart, and as they died, so did their ships...

Evidently, they had finally found something to break through even Natarle Badgiruel's calm, for now the black-haired woman stared numbly at her own display. "Oh... my... Is... is that...?"

The anguished cry of fury and grief that came over the radio in the wake of the eruption of fire -the radio was clear again, probably due to the sudden destruction- was answer enough. None of them had ever heard that sound before, but they all recognized the voice.

_Oh, Ken,_ Murrue thought, as the afterimages of the beam began to fade from her retinas. _I'm sorry..._

"It's confirmed, Captain," Sai said, shaken. "That was a nuclear-triggered burst of gamma radiation, amplified to an energy level in excess of our own Lohengrins..."

"GENESIS," Alicia Cateau spat. "I wonder how many of my own former comrades just died? For that matter, I expect a number of ZAFT troops were lost, too." Practically vibrating with an anger of her own, she turned and made her way toward the elevator.

"Where are you going, Lieutenant?" Natarle questioned.

"To the hangar," Cateau replied. "It's time I did _my_ part."

The other woman blinked in confusion. "But we don't have anything _left_ in the hangar; all our mobile suits-"

"There's still one thing left down there," Cateau said simply, and left.

Murrue hardly even noticed. "Status report," she said, voice far calmer than her own emotions. "How much damage did our forces take from that blast?"

Flay murmured into her headset for several moments, before glancing down at the Captain. "Minimal, Captain; none of our ships were in range... though it seems we _did_ lose both of _Eternal_'s GuAIZs, as well as one from_ Asmodeus._" She paused, muttering another query, and then sighed in relief. "We just received word from Freedom and Preybird. They were only caught in the fringes of the attack, and Preybird's wing-mounted light-wave barrier protected them both. Also... they're heading back into the fight in tandem, Captain. Freedom and Preybird are no longer firing on each other."

Murrue smiled in relief. "I'm glad to hear it. Tell Ken I'll want a damage report from him, when he has a moment, but other than that-"

"Captain!" Tonomura interrupted. "The _Arkbird_ has deviated from its assigned course, and increased to maximum acceleration!"

"What? Get me Captain Cooper!"

A moment later, Sparky's somber face appeared on her right armrest screen. _"Hello, Captain Ramius; I figured we'd be hearing from you, if Dead Zone went down in time. What can I do for you?"_

Murrue stared at him. "What can you do for me?" she repeated. "You can start by telling me just what it is you think you're doing! This is no time for spur of the moment-"

_"This isn't spur of the moment,"_ he cut her off. _"We planned this -without the Boss's knowledge, in case you're wondering- as soon as we learned of the opposition we'd be facing here."_ The big man sighed. _"Look, I already had this conversation with the Admiral. Captain Ramius, this is something we _have_ to do; not just for the PLANTs, but for the Boss, as well. If we can pull this off, we might make the difference in this battle... we might improve the odds that the Boss will get out of this alive."_

A light dawned. "You're going after Jachin itself, aren't you?" she whispered. "But to do that..."

_"We'll have to ram,"_ Sparky acknowledged. _"I know, and every one of us is prepared for that. My engineer is already shutting down our reactor cooling systems right now; by the time we reach Jachin Due, we'll be ready. It's time to make the sacrifice, Captain."_ He paused. _"If I don't get the chance... will you tell the Boss for me? Tell him I'm sorry it came to this? And... I hope the two of you have a happy life together."_

Murrue swallowed. The -literally- twitchy ex-pilot had become a friend of hers in the months True ZAFT had been together; his death would hurt all by itself. But the thought of how Ken would react to the fall of his exec, his alter ego... _To have come so far, to have kept what's left of his team alive for a year, only to have one sacrifice himself now..._

"Thank you," she whispered at last. "But... Sparky, are you sure...?"

_"It's something I owe the Boss,"_ Sparky said simply. _"He saved my life, you know, the day that accident nearly fried me; he pulled me out before it could leave me with anything worse than a facial tic, and nearly got himself killed doing it. Now it's time I gave something back... time I gave my all to stop this war, and let him have peace in_this_ life."_ He met her eyes calmly. _"He's got something to live for now, Murrue, which is something that couldn't have been said for a long time after the Bloody Valentine. It's time he had a chance at a real life."_

"Thank you," Murrue said again, voice breaking. "...Goodbye, Sparky. And... thanks for everything."

_"Goodbye, Murrue. Godspeed."_ Lance Cooper's face vanished from the screen for the last time.

And a solemn silence fell over the _Archangel_'s Bridge.

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Muruta Azrael was literally trembling with rage. "Those bastards," he hissed. "Those unnatural, space monster bastards!"

Even James Hamilton was shaken by what they'd just witnessed. "What in the world just happened out there?" he wondered. "Director... how did you know?"

"I knew because I happened to read a theory once," Azrael replied through gritted teeth. "A theory in a science journal published in the PLANTs, written a by certain irritant with an eyepatch. It talked about using focused gamma radiation as a propulsion system, through use of a gigantic mirror and nuclear bomb-generated gamma rays. It was supposed to be an engine to the stars... but my company and I did a little research, and realized that if someone could crack a few technical problems, an engine like that could be turned into a weapon." He glared out the forward viewport. "Obviously, that bastard DiFalco did more than just 'research' the idea!"

The admiral frowned. "But he couldn't have been the one to fire that thing; he hasn't even been in the PLANTs in months-"

"But I'm sure he was the one who got the ball rolling," the Director said angrily. "And because of that, we've got, what, two fleets left? And no vanguard to keep the enemy busy?"

"I'm afraid so, Director," Hamilton said heavily. "We're not helpless, of course, but that _was_ a third of our total force... and if that thing should fire again..."

Azrael cursed viciously. "Send out the Peacemaker Force," he bit out. "I want nuclear missiles targeted on that hourglass, _and_ that mirror!" He lowered his voice to a hungry whisper. "And take us out of Fleet formation. DiFalco draws his strength from his troops... and the traitorous _Archangel_ is his flagship. We're going to hunt her, Admiral, and we're going to bring her down. And once we've done that... we're going to bring down the Butcher Bird himself."

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due

* * *

Athrun had been mostly oblivious to the eruption of GENESIS; he'd noticed it, certainly, but right now he was far more concerned with surviving to draw another breath.

_Is this the strength of madness?_ he wondered, spinning his METEOR-equipped machine through a web of laser fire. _Or is it just that new machine of his?_ One thing was for sure: Le Creuset's mobile suit was even more advanced that Athrun's own, and that was _not_ good news.

"You're good, Athrun," Le Creuset mused, his DRAGOON units providing a steady stream of fire to keep Justice on its toes. "I was never able to properly appreciate that before, but now that our swords have met in battle, I see that you truly are worthy of the medal your father awarded you. Only a pilot such as you could've defeated Kira Yamato in battle, and for that, you have my respect."

"I don't _want_ your respect," Athrun grunted, firing the METEOR's primary beam cannons in a blaze of red-orange fire. "You're a crazed menace, Commander, and the only respect I want is from my friends!"

"Even from Kira Yamato?" Rau mocked, using Providence's huge main thrusters to boost away from the beams. "Even from that twisted creation of a madman's deranged dreams?"

"He's not a 'twisted creation'," Justice's pilot shot back. "He's my friend, and I don't _care_ how he was born! None of that matters!"

"Not to you, perhaps," Le Creuset conceded, triggering a heavy emerald blast from his enormous rifle. "But to others? Surely you know the stigma that will be attached to those who willingly associate with the Ultimate Coordinator, if his secret should ever be revealed."

"If I've learned one thing from serving alongside Commander DiFalco," Athrun shot back, cursing inwardly as the shot from the Judicium smashed one of his smaller beam cannons to splinters, "it's that sometimes, you have to just do the right thing, no matter what kind of 'stigma' might be attached!"

Le Creuset nodded thoughtfully. "You learned from the best, I'll give you that. Falcon is nothing if not courageous... but my brother's courage will be his downfall, in the end. Even if he succeeds in this mad quest, he knows better than anyone how low the odds of his survival are." The DRAGOONs swooped in again, and the METEOR simply proved to be too large a target to easily miss, even with its massive thrust capacity. Emerald streams speared in, and Justice's maneuvers weren't enough to save it from damage.

Holes were liberally torn throughout the METEOR's structure, but Athrun did his best to keep it in the back of his mind; in this battle, the contest of wills would have a profound effect on the physical battle, as well. "I wouldn't call Falcon 'brother' to his face, if I were you," he grunted, trying not to think about the last thing his old commander had said. "Not unless you want to make him angry enough to kill you outright."

"And what would be wrong with that?" the masked man said whimsically. "After all, we both know his mobile suits don't survive very long when he gets angry. His skill is phenomenal, but really too much for any machine to handle. And besides... it's not as if I'm going to live beyond this battle anyway. Better that we should die together, as the last relics of Al Da Flaga's arrogance."

"You're forgetting Mu La Flaga," Athrun pointed out, unleashing a barrage of missiles, "and you're not _going_ to die together, because Commander DiFalco is going to survive... and _I'm_ going to stop you here and now!"

"I'm forgetting nothing, Athrun," Rau told him, his DRAGOONs setting up a curtain of green fire that tore the missiles to shrapnel. "But you see, Al Da Flaga never truly acknowledged Mu as his son; _I_ was the one that bastard chose, and I daresay Falcon is _exactly_ the son he always wanted!"

"He'd hate to hear _that,_" Athrun muttered, then cursed as something within the METEOR detonated, throwing him into a spin. _Must've been that DRAGOON attack,_ he thought, struggling with his controls. _I just don't get it; why can't I hit this guy?_

Le Creuset laughed, watching Justice spin helplessly around its own axis. "Don't be so surprised, Athrun," he advised. "You didn't think I could allow _you_ to defeat me, did you? I still have to meet Mu in combat one last time... and, of course, I can hardly deny Falcon the opportunity to take one last shot at me, his true brother." Raising the Judicium again, his tone turned thoughtful. "You know, there's not actually much difference in our ages; perhaps five years or so, if that. In many ways, your new commander and I are more like brothers than he and Mu could ever be..." he shrugged. "Well, that doesn't matter to you, now does it? Goodbye, Athrun Zala. You put up a good fight, but in vain." He squeezed the trigger...

...Just as Athrun ejected the METEOR unit entirely, throwing Justice free of the deathtrap the weapons platform had become. "It's not over yet, Commander!" he called, even as the METEOR exploded behind him. He drew his sabers, connecting them together, and charged forward; he knew he couldn't defeat Providence in this manner, but if he could just get close enough... "I'm still bringing you down!"

"What can you hope to achieve?" Le Creuset wondered, more amused than anything else. "Justice doesn't have the firepower to stop divine Providence; not without that METEOR unit. Or are you just trying to distract me from going after Falcon?"

"Oh, you'll find this _distracting,_ all right!" Twisting through the maelstrom of energy fire, Athrun delved into Justice's software... and started removing the safeties on the nuclear reactor. "I guess today is a good die to die!"

Le Creuset blinked, then began laughing as his systems reported increasing radiation levels within the Justice. "Oh, Athrun, this is delightful! You truly are worthy of that red uniform; pity you won't be around for the award ceremony!"

"Neither will you," Athrun said with a feral smile. _If I die... then I die well. I'm sorry, Lacus, but I'm sure Commander DiFalco will take care of you..._

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind, and devoted all his attention to dodging the Providence's attacks. Now all he had to do was survive long enough for his reactor to meltdown... and then it would all be over for the both of them.

* * *

Preybird and Freedom flew side by side, on the same team again at last, as they streaked across space toward Jachin Due. Both machines were badly scarred -and Preybird now did not dare use its bubble generator, lest it burn out and take the power receptor surfaces with it- but now they shot only at the enemy, not at each other... and Kira made no sound of protest when Preybird's blade buried itself in a mobile suit's torso.

"I'm sorry, Ken," he said quietly. "I didn't understand..."

"No," Ken agreed, "you didn't. But you couldn't have, either, and that's partly my fault; I always kept my thoughts to myself, as a security measure, never thinking it might be part of why you distrusted me." He shrugged. "Well, what's done is done."

"Yeah," Kira murmured. "But you know," he added, with a slight smile, "that attack run of yours _was_ pretty stupid. You'd never have gotten anywhere _near_ GENESIS all by yourself."

"Not after the damage _you_ inflicted on me, certainly," the ace agreed, but with a trace of amusement rather than anger. "You're right, though, it wasn't very bright. But enough about that for now; we can talk later... when we're not in such a hurry."

"Yeah..." Inwardly, Kira winced; he still wasn't sure exactly what Ken had been up to, all this time, but the fact that he risked throwing away everything he'd worked for to save Kira's life told him he'd been wrong to open fire. Now he just hoped neither Freedom nor Preybird had taken enough damage for it to truly be dangerous...

Preybird slowed momentarily, as a pair of GuAIZs came directly toward it, beam rifles firing. Ken took one shot on his left buckler... and then both machines feel away, trailing sparks from neck and open shoulder joints. "Nice shooting, Kira," he said approvingly.

"Thanks."

Nothing more was said for several moments, as the two mobile suits began to cut their way toward Jachin Due... but something abruptly caught Ken's eye, and he stiffened. "Kira," he called, "look up, near Jachin's north pole..."

Kira did, and did a double take. "Isn't that... the _Arkbird...?"_

"Sparky," Ken called immediately, stomach tightening, "answer me. Why are you out of formation? Answer me! What do you think you're doing?"

Sparky's face appeared on the cockpit module's inner surface, and smiled sadly. _"Hello, Boss. I hoped I'd get to see you... one last time."_

The ace's eye widened. "Sparky... what are you saying? What do you mean, one last time? We're both still alive, and we're going to get out of this one together..."

The big man shook his head. _"I'm sorry, Boss,"_ he said quietly. _"I really am. But this is something we have to do. ...We're going to stop GENESIS by destroying the controls... by ramming Jachin Due itself."_

"No," Ken said instantly. _"No!_ Break off your run at once, Sparky. That's an order!"

_"Can't do it, Boss."_ The pilot's eye widened again in sheer disbelief as, for the first time since they'd known each other, Sparky disobeyed a direct order. _"You know as well as I do how risky your run on GENESIS would be; and we can't afford to lose you. Remember... this won't be over just because Zala and Azrael die. You _know_ the threat that lies even beyond that. And..."_ Sparky paused. _"It's time I gave something back to you, Boss. You've done so much for us, now it's time to do this for you, because of what you've done."_

Ken's hands tightened on his controls. "Sparky... no... You can't..." He swallowed. "Sparky, none of this was ever about _me!_ You know that; along the way I hoped to find redemption, but this was all for the PLANTs!"

His exec nodded. _"I know, Boss; that's why we're doing this. You gave your all for the PLANTs... so now we give_our_ all for you. You have to survive, Boss. Live on, with Murrue... live the life this constant battle has denied you."_ He sighed. _"You can't save us now, Boss; my engineers have already removed the radiation shielding from around the reactor. We're the living dead as it is... Well, I guess this is it. Godspeed, my friend... and goodbye."_

Lance Cooper's face vanished, and Ken stared through suddenly blurred eyes at the events unfolding before him. "Sparky? Lance! Answer me! _Laaannnceee!"_

_

* * *

_

Jachin Due, Command Center

* * *

"It's confirmed, Your Excellency," a soldier reported. "The entire Earth Forces Fourth Fleet was wiped out by GENESIS' attack." He paused. "We also lost several of our own mobile suits, as well as a single _Nazca."_

"Regrettable losses," Zala said unflinchingly, "but ones that are not in vain. We've taken out a full third of their fighting strength now; and that will give us an opening to take out the other two fleets, and the nuclear weapons they carry." He turned. "How long to get a new alignment mirror in place?"

As Ken had explained long before, the mirror used to reflect the gamma rays back into the giant mirror was engulfed in the subsequent blast, and had to be replaced. Fortunately, upon realizing the threat the man posed to his own creation, Zala had ordered his men to begin practicing replacing the mirror as soon as GENESIS had been completed, and now they were quite adept at the task.

"It should be done within an hour, Your Excellency," a tech said now. "Possibly less."

Zala smiled. "Good. But just in case something should happen..." He moved toward a control panel, and began typing in commands. _I know it's unlikely,_ he thought to himself, _but I can't discount the possibility that Falcon will find a way to destroy Jachin Due itself... and there's always the chance the Earth Forces will get lucky with one of their nuclear missiles. If that should happen, I don't want everything I've worked for to die with me. The PLANTs _will_ be free, and the Naturals _will_ be exterminated..._

The instructions he locked into Jachin's computers were in essence a deadman switch: if anything happened to the asteroid, GENESIS would begin an automatic firing sequence as soon as all was in readiness.

"There," Zala muttered to himself, "that should-"

"Your Excellency," a communications officer interrupted, "we're receiving a transmission from one of the rogue ships, identified as _Arkbird._ The captain wishes to speak with you, Sir."

The Chairman looked up in surprise. _Cooper,_ he thought. _That's Cooper's ship. He really thinks I'll talk to him? Wait..._ A slow smile spread across his face. "Let me hear what he has to say. He might let something slip... something we can use against Commander DiFalco."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Whatever expression Zala had been expecting to see on Lance Cooper's face when it appeared, it was not what he got. "Well, if it isn't 'Captain' Cooper," he said sarcastically. "Judging from the smile on your face, I suppose the treason business is going well... but I assure you, you won't have anything to smile about for very long."

_"Perhaps not,"_ Sparky agreed amiably. _"But then, neither will you. Your ships all seem to be busy with other matters -besides the ones we blew to atoms- and your mobile suits are pathetic small fry compared to us. You've got nothing to get in our way."_

Zala snorted. "What does it matter, Cooper? One _Eternal_-class ship can't do enough damage to Jachin to be worth it. Are you just here to throw away your life? That doesn't sound like Falcon's style."

_"These aren't his orders,"_ Sparky informed him, _"and you're forgetting one very important thing: _Arkbird_ isn't_ quite_ the same as the _Eternal_-class."_

Nearby, a tech stiffened. "Excellency! We're detecting a radiation signature consistent with a nuclear reactor beginning meltdown!"

Zala's eyes widened. "You bastard..." he whispered. "You're throwing away your lives just to kill me...?"

_"In this world, in a battle between you and the Boss, there's only one truth that matters, Chairman: in the end, there can be only one."_ Sparky smiled, hearing over the radio the sounds of panic in Jachin's command center, as people began to flee. _"We all have our parts to play in this war, and mine -as well as my shipmates- is to stop one of the two most dangerous leaders in the world. Goodbye, Chairman."_

_"Arkbird_ is on a collision course, ETA ten seconds, we can't stop it-!"

_"Game over."_

The last thing Patrick Zala ever saw was the bow of the _Arkbird_ plowing through the wall... and the tremendous flash of subcritical nuclear detonation.

The last thing Lance Cooper ever saw was the same flash... but he, like his crew, greeted it with satisfaction.

* * *

_Asmodeus,_ Bridge

* * *

Tom Delaney watched, grief-stricken, as one of the best friends he'd ever had vanished into the maelstrom of fire that had engulfed the asteroid fortress Jachin Due. Secondary explosions rippled through the rock... and then the whole structure blew itself apart. "Sparky..." he whispered. "No..."

Hie own exec looked up, seeing the tears in his captain's eyes but knowing better than to comment. "Sir? ...What are your order? _Archangel_ is still standing by to starboard, and they'd like to know..."

Tom shook himself. "Continue the mission," he said, in a dry, cracked voice. "There'll be time for grief later. Tell _Archangel_ that we're still... still in the fight." He closed his eyes. "Communications, get me Leanne, please."

"Yes, Sir."

_"You called, Tom?" _Leanne asked quietly; in the background, her hands could be heard dancing across her controls, dealing death while preventing her own as she swept through ZAFT's forces.

Tom had to clear his throat before he could speak. "You... saw what happened, right?"

_"...Yeah. But we're soldiers, Tom; just like at Endymion, there's no time to worry about that right now. Let's finish the mission, and then we can remember all the friends we lost."_

"Yeah." He nodded to himself. "Thanks, Leanne. I just... needed to hear that, I guess."

_"Well, now you've heard, so get back to work."_ The words were curt, but the tone wasn't.

"Roger that. See you after the mission, my friend."

Now everything had been said that could be. Tom's instincts told him to contact Ken, as well, but somehow he knew better. _We've just struck a major blow, but I bet it doesn't feel that way to the Boss. He just lost a friend, just like I did... and right now he must be having Endymion flashbacks as it is. Better to just leave him alone._ Still, just to be safe... He tapped commands into his right armrest screen, readying it for any necessary signal.

"Status report," he called, voice now that a stranger... a calm stranger. "What's the situation out there?"

"Hard to say, Captain," his exec replied. _"Arkbird_ is... gone, as are several of our mass-produced units; we don't have an exact count on them yet. Freedom and Preybird are both damaged, to different degrees, but the other G-weapons seem to be largely intact. Except... we can't find the Justice at the moment, and we seem to have lost track of something large within the Earth Forces formation." He frowned. "We can see that they've launched the Peacemaker Force again, but... there's no sign of the _Dominion._ Where _is_ she...?"

Tom frowned himself. There was something ominous about that; something that had his instincts screaming at him. "Keep checking," he began. "Bring us to port, and warn _Archangel_ that _Dominion_ is-"

"Sir! There's something coming out of the Fourth Fleet debris field!"

His head snapped up, and his eyes widened. The _Archangel_'s dark twin, Azrael's flagship, was coming toward them... and the Gottfrieds were beginning to glow.

He hit the button on his armrest. "Boss! _Dominion_ is approaching _Archangel_ and _Asmodeus;_ weapons hot, I think they're going to-"

Thomas Delaney flung himself at the Bridge elevator doors, just as the emerald flash erupted from _Dominion_'s bow.

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due Remnants

* * *

Ken had been slumped in his seat for several moments before the event. It was the first time in over a year that he'd lost one of _his_ pilots -as opposed to someone like Tolle Koenig- in a battle. Under other circumstances, he might've been too wrapped up in staying alive to feel anything... but this time, all he had to do for a time was stare at the expanding gas cloud that had once been Jachin Due.

_Sparky... no... I kept you three alive through so much, even after I deserted, and now I lose you on the very cusp of victory._ He swallowed. _It should've been me, Sparky. It should've been me..._

He understood something now that he hadn't before. He'd spouted his Lessons of War from time to time, lecturing newer pilots on how to survive... but now Ken DiFalco understood that the most important lessons weren't the ones he taught others. The most important ones were those he learned from those who sacrificed themselves, for him and for others.

"I'm sorry, Ken," Kira said softly, knowing how inadequate the words were. "I..."

Ken swallowed again. "I know, Kira... and thanks." He took a deep breath...

... And promptly exhaled like he'd been kicked in the gut. _"Boss! _Dominion_ is approaching _Archangel_ and_ Asmodeus_; weapons hot, I think they're going to-"_

Tom's voice cut off with sickening suddenness, and the Grimaldi Falcon's head whipped around just in time to see _Asmodeus'_ Bridge -less well-armored against beams than the rest of the hull- be simply smashed to pieces, with debris scattering off into space.

_"Tom!"__No, this can't be; not two of them, not this fast-_

"Ken," Kira said urgently, "the _Archangel!_ We've got to do something!"

Ken nodded jerkily. His battle plan had gone to pieces, his friends were dropping like flies, but he still had a job to do. Normally it was Kira who fought for the living, while Ken made sure the fallen didn't die in vain, but now he had to fight for both. "You watch out for the Peacemaker Force," he rasped. "I'll go after _Dominion._ Got it?"

Kira nodded. "As ordered. Don't let..."

_Don't let Murrue die, too,_ Ken finished mentally. "I won't." Leaving Freedom to watch for the nukes, he hauled Preybird around, and began a mad dash across space.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Murrue felt a hammer blow to her chest. First _Arkbird_ slammed into Jachin Due and exploded, taking the fortress with her, and now _Asmodeus_ lost the top of her superstructure, and her chain of command broke with it. She could see the ship to _Archangel_'s port, flaming metal blazing into space at the top of the ship's superstructure, the ship herself listing to port and falling out of formation...

And dead ahead, the Earth Alliance Forces Mobile Assault Ship _Dominion._ Of the same class as both _Archangel_ and _Asmodeus,_ only she could threaten either of the ships, let alone both. Now, with one sucker punch, she'd knocked _Asmodeus_ completely out of the fight, leaving _Archangel_ to fend for herself.

"Change target, Romero," she heard herself say. "Ignore ZAFT completely; target all weapons the _Dominion."_

"Understood, Captain," Pal replied, and began rapidly typing the new targeting orders into his console. "Target locked, Ma'am."

"Begin firing."

_Dominion_ opened up at the same time, and beams, missiles, and bullets began flying between the two ships... and Muruta Azrael chose that moment to speak to the "traitors" one last time.

Flay didn't wait for instructions before putting the signal through; again, it was a battle of wills as well as weapons. If Azrael could be distracted, very likely his crew could be, as well, so she put the murderous businessman on the screen immediately.

_"Well, hello, Captain Ramius,"_ Azrael drawled, ignoring the sounds of combat even though his own ship was getting hit in the process. _"I thought I'd chat with you one more time, before we blew you to pieces."_

"This isn't over yet, you bastard," Murrue told him, anger smouldering in her eyes. "You haven't won, and you're not going to win, either." She didn't even twitch when the ship heaved around her, signaling the destruction of Helldart launchers. "I'm not giving up."

He shrugged. _"Didn't think you were, Captain... but it just means you'll go out swinging. In case you haven't noticed, you've already lost two of _your_ ships; and while we might've lost more, well, we've got the numbers to absorb that, and you, my dear, do not. And, of course, the mobile suits you've left behind for CAP are no match for the _Dominion." As though to prove his point, a pair of Astrays went up in a puff of flame, their pilots left with no time to scream as the beam cannon blasts ripped through them; in an almost karma-like display, _Dominion_'s port Valiant promptly followed them into death.

"I didn't realize suicide attacks were your style, Azrael," Murrue shot back. "After all, even if you kill us, there's no way you'll escape alive yourself; or didn't you notice that you're getting hit, too?"

_"Doesn't matter, Captain Ramius,"_ Admiral Hamilton put in. _"We know what we're doing... and dying isn't it, however much that would please you."_

This time, as an explosion heralded the loss of a Gottfried -as evidenced by the sudden slacking of _Archangel_'s fire- she _did_ wince... but her eyes remained steady. "If you think you've got a way out of this alive, Admiral, I suggest you use it now, or we _will_ kill you here and now."

Azrael smiled, and Murrue's stomach clenched. _"What a wonderful idea, Captain; thank you for suggesting it yourself."_ He glanced at Hamilton. _"Admiral... fire Lohengrin, please."_

Murrue's eyes widened. "Sai!"

"Confirmed," Sai said tautly. "_Dominion_ positron banks charged; they were ready to fire even before they attacked the _Asmodeus-"_

_"Goodbye, Captain Ramius."_

The weapons mounted in _Dominion_'s front "legs" extended from their hiding places, seemingly in slow motion. One of them was smashed away by Pal's desperate Gottfried fire, but the other gaped open... and red-orange fire powered out, directly for _Archangel_'s Bridge. Murrue prepared herself for death...

...A death that never came. The fiery light show beyond the viewport continued, but there was something blocking it; something that looked like... a mobile suit?

"Ken!" Murrue choked out. "Ken, don't!"

Between _Dominion_ and _Archangel_, hovering like a tamed demon, was ZGMF-X00A Preybird. Both arm-mounted light-wave barriers were active, held up in front of the powerful machine, holding back the tide of antimatter fire. But Murrue knew that even that would only keep it back for a few moments; the generators couldn't take the strain...

_"I'm sorry, Murrue,"_ Ken grunted. _"Truly sorry... but I've lost too many friends today. I can't... lose you too..." _Already, it seemed that Preybird was being affected by the antimatter; it's head simply dissolved, and the rest was being eaten away now, as well. _"Hey, you were the one who told me to make the impossible possible, right?"_

Her eyes filled. "Ken, please... you can't... you can't leave me..."

_"I'm sorry,"_ he said again. _"Goodbye, Murrue. I love you..."_ His voice faded, and static filled the speakers.

The antimatter stream faded at last, and all that remained to be seen of Preybird was the Gerbera Straight, shattered against the stars...

* * *

Author's note: The space fortress Jachin Due has fallen, and with it _Arkbird, Asmodeus,_ and Sparky Cooper. And now even the Grimaldi Falcon is gone from the battle, with no end to the fighting in sight...

Well, this chapter is up a little faster than the last one, eh? Still longer than average, but then so's the chapter. Anyway, let me know how it was; and beyond that... no comment. -Solid Shark


	45. Chapter 45: The Shiva Option

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

I also do not own the _Odin;_ it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge, September 26th, C.E. 71

* * *

For a time, it seemed the universe itself was holding its breath.

First _Arkbird_ plowed into Jachin Due, overloaded her reactor, and took Captain Lance Cooper and his entire crew with her into radioactive oblivion. Then _Dominion_ appeared from the debris field that had once been the Fourth Fleet, took aim at _Asmodeus,_ and blew her Bridge off.

No word had since been heard from the ship, and Captain Thomas Delaney was presumed dead.

Now, taking the matter-annihilating stream of antimatter meant for the _Archangel,_ ZGMF-X00A Preybird had also been consumed... and Commander Kenneth DiFalco with it. His death, coming on the heels of the loss of two of his remaining Demons, was a blow to them all... none more so than their captain.

Murrue Ramius could only stare in horrified grief at the patch of space Preybird had occupied only moments before. All that remained there now were the shards of the machine's Gerbera Straight; evidently, Ken had used the weapon at the last moment to supplement his light-wave defense, buying the _Archangel_ precious time with his own life.

"It... can't be..." she whispered. "You... you promised you'd come back to me..." Her vision blurred, and her head fell.

In CIC, Natarle fully understood what her captain was going through... and realized that she, as exec, needed to take command. "Continue fire on the _Dominion,"_ she ordered, voice only slightly tinged by her own sense of loss. "Bring that ship down, now!"

On the main screen, which still displayed _Dominion_'s transmission, Muruta Azrael smiled wickedly. _"Well, well, saved by the space monster... I can't say I'm pleased your ship is still holding air, but getting rid of DiFalco was worth the delay."_ He laughed cuttingly. _"How pathetic, really. He sold his humanity to get him this far, and then sacrifices it all to give one ship a few extra moments of life. Truly pathetic..."_ His head turned. _"Admiral, prepare to fire Lohengrin one more time."_

_"Yes, Director."_

_"I don't think so!"_

Murrue's head came up at last, and her eyes widened in surprise, for seemingly out of nowhere came ZGMF-X10A Freedom, brother to Preybird, fully equipped with the METEOR weapons platform... and piloted by a man consumed by anger. "Kira...?"

_"You bastards,"_ Kira Yamato hissed over the radio, fury in his voice. _"You just killed your only hope for survival; you have no idea what you've just done!"_

Azrael snorted. _"I don't know who you are, boy, but we don't need some unnatural bastard like DiFalco to 'save the world'. We can survive just fine on our own, thank you, and we might as well start by killing you, and then that ship DiFalco just tried to save."_

_"I don't think so,"_ Kira replied coldly, and then said something Murrue never thought she'd hear him say._"Because I'm going to kill you first..."_

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due Remnants

* * *

Kira Yamato felt a cold rage grip him, the likes of which he hadn't felt since the first battle after Flay began manipulating him. Then, the rage had not truly been his own; but today, the fury came form within his own heart. "You just killed a better man than you could ever hope to be," he hissed over the radio. "Ken sacrificed himself for a cause he believed in, a cause _worth_ believing in, and as long as people like him exist, you can never win!"

Ignoring the shouts now coming over the radio from _Dominion,_ he swooped in toward the ship, firing salvo after salvo of missiles from the METEOR's many launchers; most of them were blown away by _Dominion_'s Igelstellungs, but a number of them got through anyway, blasting small but numerous holes in the vessel's outer hull.

Azrael's flagship didn't take that lying down, of course. Emerald fire flashed out from the Gottfrieds, and Hamilton's helmsman desperately swung the ship around, trying to bring the remaining Lohengrin to bear. But even as the powerful weapons reached out for him, the pressures built in Kira's mind... until an amethyst seed burst behind his eyes.

His mobility enhanced by the METEOR unit Freedom rode, Kira wove a deadly dance through the fire and bullets; a streak of emerald light scorched right past Freedom's head, but he ignored it all, intent only on his target. The massive energy swords on the METEOR's arms flashed into existence, and he swept down in a mighty stroke at_ Dominion_'s hull.

From the radio, he could hear the curses of incredulous fury as his blade ripped down through _Dominion_'s starboard Gottfried, the launch deck below it, and even the single remaining Lohengrin on the lowest deck. A massive explosion tore through the starboard side of the ship, vomiting debris, flame, and bodies into space... and the main hangar directly amidships.

Then _Archangel_ got into the act at last, as an enraged Murrue Ramius gave the order to fire her own ship's Lohengrin. She would not deprive Kira of his share of _Dominion_'s hull, but she _would_ hurt those who had stolen Ken from her.

From _Archangel_'s starboard leg, a column of antimatter fury ripped across space, smashed into _Dominion_'s port side, and shattered laminated armor like brittle steel. Launch deck, Gottfried, missile launchers, Valiant... all gone, along with most of that side of the _Dominion_.

Then Freedom came up for its final run.

* * *

_Dominion,_ Bridge

* * *

Muruta Azrael glanced around wildly, with fear-maddened eyes. "What's going on?" he demanded harshly. "How can they be doing this to us? It's not possible-"

"Pipe down, Director, please," Hamilton interrupted, actually cutting off his master mid-sentence. "Panic will not help us... not that anything else will, either," he conceded. "It's too late; the traitors have done too much damage for us to succeed now."

Azrael stared at him. "You're sounding remarkably calm for a man facing his own death, Admiral," he snarled, more in terror than anger; and, as if to prove his point, another explosion went off, apparently from the port missile tubes. "They're killing us!"

"Yes," Hamilton said with a calm nod, "they are." He smiled slightly, watching Freedom appear just outside the forward viewport. "You know," he went on, as weapon ports began to glow, "it's ironic, really. Charles died because he cast out his son, and Castor met his fate because of a man we all rejected, and turned to the Coordinator's side of things. Now we're about to go join them... and I think now, perhaps we deserve to. The weak will die off to make room for the strong... and really, it's just like with Charles' son: they bring the fight to us only because _we_ brought the fight to _them._" He smiled at Azrael's stunned expression. "We all must face judgment for our crimes, Director. In the end, justice always prevails..."

Four beam cannons, two rail cannons, and a pair of plasma cannons erupted from a distance of less than two hundred meters, and one bigoted terrorist, one regretful admiral, and an entire crew of hand-picked Coordinator haters vanished from the face of the universe.

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due Remnants

* * *

Rau Le Creuset paused for a moment, his DRAGOONs falling silent, and Athrun finally had a brief respite. Staying alive long enough to blow up his own machine seemed simple enough in theory... until one considered how strong the safeties on the reactor were. He'd ripped most of them out, but it would still require a countdown to reach meltdown status, so he was grateful for the break... until he heard Le Creuset sigh in what seemed genuine regret._That doesn't sound good..._

The masked pilot's words reinforced Athrun's sudden apprehension. "What a shame," he murmured. "Azrael, Azrael... what a disappointment you were. Still, it was a fitting end for you, killed in such a manner... and you deserve it, for depriving us of a proper conclusion."

"What are you talking about, Commander?" Athrun demanded, throat suddenly tight.

Providence turned back to him. "Unfortunately," Le Creuset said quietly, genuinely regretful, "it seems Azrael made a premature attempt to deal with the legged ship... and when he did so, Preybird got in his way." He shook his head. "A positron blast... evidently even Falcon's superior design skills didn't save his machine from antimatter. There's nothing left of him, now."

Justice's pilot felt his stomach clench. _I wish I could assume he was lying... but that's not his style. Ugh, this is bad... now we've lost our best chance of stopping GENESIS, leaving only the option of trying to blast through all its phase-shift layers and basic armor... assuming we can even get all our remaining ships here._ He closed his eyes. _And I don't even want to _think_ about how the Captain and Kira are feeling about now._

"It's just as well Azrael's dead now," Le Creuset went on, almost to himself. "If Kira Yamato hadn't killed him, I would have, for depriving the two of us of our final encounter..."

Athrun decided enough was enough, and it was time to take advantage of his former commander's apparent distraction. Feeding power to Justice's thrusters -and just incidentally increasing the strain on his reactor- he rushed forward, twirling his beam staff.

Le Creuset wasn't stupid; he turned his attention back to the battle at hand, and smiled. "Very good, Athrun; I can see why Falcon placed such trust in your skills. But I'm afraid today isn't the day you'll defeat me. If Falcon and I cannot finish each other, then it will be Kira or Mu who has that pleasure." With a laugh, his DRAGOON system came to life again, bracketing Justice in a web of emerald fire, and his Judicium rifle spat powerful bursts of energy toward him.

Athrun cursed, evading furiously, his machine dancing around in a pattern that would've made a Natural's head spin. Some of the beams ricocheted off his spinning blade, others splattered against his shield... but two got through. One hit precisely in the center of his twinned sabers' hilt, smashing it to pieces, and the other struck squarely between Justice's optics, melting through the armored head and then blowing it clean off.

The sudden loss of forward vision caused Athrun to fall away, unable to see where he was going. _No!_ he raged inwardly. _I can't die like this; not for nothing! If I could just last long enough for the reactor to blow..._ But that clearly wasn't going to happen now.

Le Creuset shook his head. "You are an excellent pilot, Athrun, and your skills rival even Kira Yamato's. Unfortunately, your Justice is simply no match for the divine wrath of Providence; my unit was intended to counter Falcon's ultimate weapon, and next to Preybird, even Justice is but a pale shadow." He smiled slightly, and aimed the Judicium. "Farewell, Athrun Zala... for now. I suspect I shall not long outlive you." His finger squeezed the trigger...

...And the powerful burst of emerald fire splattered halfway between the two machines, for no apparent reason. "Wha...?" Athrun wondered. "What could...?"

The masked commander frowned. "What happened? Oh, I see..."

Simultaneous with his realization came a burst of green fire from an invisible point less than a meter from where Providence's shot had vanished, and a call over the radio. "Get clear, Athrun!" Nicol Amalfi commanded, as his Raiden appeared out of the veil of Mirage Colloid. "Get back to the _Archangel;_ Leanne and I have the Commander!"

"Nicol?" Athrun managed. "What are you...?"

"Go!" Nicol insisted. "If you hurry, you can get repaired in time to still affect the battle, but right now you're no good to anyone." He glared briefly at Justice. "And get your reactor cooling systems back up before you burn up, will you?"

"Ah... right... But..."

This time, it was Lacus' voice that came to him. _"Stop running, Athrun,"_ she said fiercely. _"I know you blame yourself for what happened to your father, but killing yourself isn't the answer! If you want redemption, you have to _live!" Her voice softened. _"And too many people have already died today. Do you want the deaths of Captain Cooper and Falcon to be in vain?"_

Athrun swallowed. "No, Lacus," he whispered. "No, I don't." He looked back at Nicol's machine. "Be careful, Nicol. Like she said... too many people have died today."

"Don't worry, Athrun," Nicol reassured him. "I'm not going to die here."

"Good." Turning Justice as smoothly as he could without proper visuals, Athrun hit his verniers and boosted away, noting as he did the presence of a slate-gray GuAIZ. _That'll be Leanne,_ he thought, feeling a pang of grief. _She must be hurting; she and Shiho are all that's left of the Gray Demons now. Captain Cooper, Captain Delaney... and the Commander..._

Yes, Lacus was right: too many people had died for a victory that was not yet secure.

* * *

Sophia DiFalco choked back tears, having heard her little brother die. "Falcon..." she whispered. "No... why you? Brother, _why you?_ This wasn't supposed to happen..."

She'd lost friends before; on the battlefield, that was inevitable. Many of them had died by Ken's hand at the First Battle of Jachin Due. More had perished at First Victoria, the Battle of El Alamein, and the First Casablanca Sea Battle... but this was different. This time, she'd lost her own brother. Though they were not related by blood, he was still the only family she had left... until now.

Lips curled in a snarl of impotent rage, the Victorian Kestrel turned Hyperion's beam submachine gun on the nearest enemy mobile suit. Almost as though her fury lent power to the energy weapon, the staccato burst of emerald darts ripped through the GuAIZ and blasted it into splinters. "Those _bastards!"_ she hissed, throwing herself into the melee; as she did so, Hyperion's free hand snatched out a beam knife, and hurled it into a passing Strike Dagger. By this time, the two forces had melded into one gigantic furball, and it was the Earth Forces pilot's bad luck to happen by at that particular moment.

He exploded, but before Sophia could make another reckless attack, another voice broke through to her. "Watch it, Kestrel!" Mu La Flaga snapped, his gunbarrels spiraling out to put out a barrage of covering fire. "Don't be stupid!"

"You know what they did," she snarled at him. "They just killed Falcon!"

"I _know_ that," he told her, eyes hard on her screen. "I know," he repeated more gently. "But no matter how many you kill, it won't bring him back to life... and if you keep this up, you'll just get _yourself_ killed." His blue gaze locked on her emerald one. "Do you think Falcon would've wanted you to throw away your life like this, Kestrel?"

Sophia sagged in her seat. "No, Mu," she whispered. "No, he wouldn't."

"Then don't," Mu said gently. "And... let's make sure his sacrifice isn't in vain."

She swallowed, took a deep breath, and nodded. "You're right," she said at last. "But it may already be too late. This whole plan was predicated on having Preybird take a full charge from one of the power satellites, fly inside GENESIS itself, and pour a barrage of antimatter directly at the wall leading into warhead storage; the general idea, I guess, being to trigger a sympathetic detonation in the conventional warheads and so set off a nuclear chain reaction. But with Preybird gone, we don't have any mobile suit equipped with a weapon powerful enough to do that, which means the only recourse is to batter it to death, and _that_ presupposes we don't lose any more ships..."

Mu smiled crookedly. "Well, look on the bright side," he suggested. "At least with Zala and Jachin gone, we can take our time with GENESIS; if we have to, we can wait until the battle's over."

Sophia shook her head. "I don't think it's that simple, Mu; if it was, Falcon would've attacked Jachin first, not GENESIS. Even Jachin, for all the protection that rock gave it, was nowhere near as durable as GENESIS and its phase-shift armor. I think he was worried about Zala setting up a deadman switch... and if _Falcon_ was worried about it, I'm inclined to think he was probably onto something."

He winced. "Yeah, you've got a point there. So, what do we do? Try to fly in and take care of it ourselves? We've probably got enough firepower among the remaining mobile suits to do the job, but I don't think we could fit them all down that access tunnel..."

"I know. We'll just have to-"

The Kestrel's words were interrupted by a hyper-impulse blast that would've blown Hyperion clean in two, had she not instinctively raised the light-wave shield. _A hyper-impulse cannon,_ Sophia thought, glancing around. _It couldn't be one of ours; so it must be..._

Mu cursed, as the culprit made its appearance. "The Raider," he said in disgust. "I was wondering where those guys were."

"You beat us at Orb and Mendel," Clotho Buer taunted, "but not today! Today those hourglasses are all going up in smoke, and you're gonna be terminated right along with them!"

Sophia raised an arm-mounted barrier, intercepting a burst of machine gun fire. "Look on the bright side, Mu," she said, throwing his own words back at him. "At least with _Dominion_ gone, these guys have a time limit on how long their central nervous systems will last."

"And that might be comforting," Mu rejoined, "if not for the fact that they'll probably lose their minds before they die, and crazy people do crazy -and impressive- things."

Sophia shrugged, a distant corner of her mind grateful for the distraction. "Can't have everything," she opined. "Oh, come on; enough talk. Let's shoot him down."

* * *

Cagalli Yula Athha felt a spike of white-hot rage as her partner -her _friend-_ fell at the hands of Muruta Azrael and his band of terrorists. That Azrael himself died only moments later did little to cool her fury, and a malachite seed burst behind her eyes.

"You _bastards,"_ she rasped, fully as angry as the day she'd found Athrun amidst the wreckage of the Aegis, and learned of what she had then believed a successful attempt on Kira's life. That day, she'd restrained her fury, refrained from pulling the trigger and firing the shot that would've avenged Kira's death by taking Athrun's life... but today, she was in battle, and had a legitimate target upon which to vent. "You'll pay for this!" Her IWSP-equipped Strike Rouge was already amongst the Earth Forces units, and now she chose to wreak her vengeance upon the comrades of those who had killed her partner.

The Natural pilots of the various Strike and Buster Daggers, as well as several clusters of mobile armors, stood no chance against the fury of a Berserker. Cagalli yanked out a ship-killing blade with Strike Rouge's left hand, while the right held the beam rifle that spat emerald death at the Alliance forces.

A Strike Dagger was blown to oblivion as a beam ripped straight through the torso, and another followed it into death when a nine-meter-long blade cleaved through its left shoulder, tearing through armor, hydraulics, and circuitry like it didn't exist, until the weapon came out the right hip. Along the way, the pilot died a bloody death, and his machine exploded spectacularly.

With those two out of her way, Cagalli turned her attention to the Peacemaker Force, only sparing enough attention to annihilate a Buster Dagger with her rail cannons before delving into the midst of the nuclear-armed Moebius units. "You're all nothing but murderers," she snarled, "and you'll pay for what you've done today!" Her rifle sent a steady diet of coherent light into the mobile armors, melting and shattering their light armor like tissue paper... until the moment one of her beams touched off a nuclear missile.

Cagalli's eyes widened as she realized what the sudden, tremendous light was, and she tried desperately to pull Strike Rouge out of the way. _I'm not going to make it,_ she thought, mind racing, _there's no time, I'm going to-_

Three pairs of hands got hold of Strike Rouge's body, and thrusters from a trio of Astrays poured on power to pull them all out of range of the nuclear explosion, which grew ever larger as other weapons were set off. "Be careful, Lady Cagalli," Asagi Caldwell gasped, breathing heavily. "If we hadn't been there..."

"...You might've been fried," Juri Wu Nien agreed.

Cagalli swallowed. "Thanks, you guys," she said sincerely. "I... I don't think Ken would've been happy if I'd gotten myself killed so soon after he did..."

"Probably not," Mayura Labatt agreed. "I hear Commander DiFalco never did like for his plans to get messed up." She paused. "Orders, Lady Cagalli?"

"We're going after the Peacemaker Force," the Princess of Orb said firmly, knowing now what to do. "Ken sacrificed himself to stop all this, and I won't let it be in vain!"

* * *

Morgan Chevalier was, all in all, cautiously pleased with how the battle was going. For all that he was called the "Moonlight Mad Dog", he really wasn't a reckless sort, and it pleased him when a plan worked out at least sort of the way it was supposed to.

_Not that _everything_ is going according to plan, of course,_ he thought to himself, mood dampened as he remembered the most recent sacrifice. _Losing the Commander like that... that could be bad. But at least everything _else_ seems to be working in our favor._

Boosting hard to his right to dodge a beam blast, he retaliated against the unfortunate GuAIZ by opening up with his own beam rifle. An emerald dart briefly connected the two machines, and then the GuAIZ blew apart, Chevalier's precise shot having ripped into the energy battery.

"You guys are pathetic," he groused into his radio. "I may not be as crazy as my nickname says, but even I like a good challenge once in a while. C'mon, show your stuff, why don't ya?"

"I'm not sure you want me to take you up on that," a voice replied, "but if you insist..." A quick pair of beams scorched past, missing Chevalier's 105 Dagger by millimeters. "An ex-Earth Forces pilot, I presume? Off the _Odin?"_

"That's right," the Mad Dog confirmed, eyes narrow. "The name's Morgan Chevalier; not sure you could exactly call me True ZAFT, but we're what you'd call on the same page." His teeth clenched on a cigar he forgot he wasn't smoking, and he tilted his head. "And frankly, I'm not too happy with you people right now. Sparky Cooper was a good man."

"Brave," the pilot of the incoming orange GuAIZ admitted, "and he probably even had a point about Zala. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you people run amok here; my loyalty is to the PLANTs." Appearing on Chevalier's communications screen, the blonde-haired pilot shrugged. "I'm Heine Westenfluss, by the way; it's an honor to meet the Moonlight Mad Dog."

"Charmed," Chevalier said dryly. "Funny... loyalty to the PLANTs is exactly why Commander DiFalco led this little uprising; kinda strange how that loyalty can be interpreted so differently by two different people, wouldn't you say?"

"The Commander was another brave man," Heine acknowledged, firing another emerald dart. "Misguided, but I happen to belong to the school of thought that says he was misguided, not deliberately treasonous; if your stolen Freedom hadn't already killed Azrael, I'd have been happy to do it myself." He chuckled. "I'll settle for you, instead, Earther."

Chevalier grinned, and deployed his gunbarrels. "If you can't get a _real_ Earth Forces pilot, you'll take an ex-Earth Forces pilot instead, eh? Fine by me, Mister Westenfluss." The spiraling remote weapons began spitting emerald death, and the Mad Dog had to laugh. "At least this way, I won't be bored!"

* * *

"So," Le Creuset mused, watching the Justice retreat, "now I have the two of you to deal with? How fitting... another of my former pilots, and the last of the Gray Demons... So, Nicol Amalfi, how _have_ you been? Last I heard, the Strike had cut you in half."

"I've been where I needed to be," Nicol shot back, catching a trio of DRAGOON-fired beams on his Trikeros. "I healed, and then I joined my cousin's conspiracy, because of people like you." He glared at the Providence. "What right do you have to throw away everything we've fought for, Commander?"

"Mankind has outlived its own moral authority," Rau informed him, dashing in close with beam saber activated. "The Ultimate Coordinator Project, Al Da Flaga's bid for immortality, the Bloody Valentine, Falcon's mad project... even Falcon's demise all point to the need for humanity's destruction... and its inevitability!"

Raiden stopped the saber with its own, and was flung back a dozen meters by Providence's sheer mass. "You're wrong," Nicol grunted, slicing at a DRAGOON that strayed too close. "And even if you were right, who are _you_ to make that judgment, huh?"

"Only one other man ever had that right," Le Creuset told him, jerking his remote unit out of danger. "Only Falcon and I ever had that right, because of the circumstances of our respective genesis. We have that right... because _we_are the ultimate expression of mankind's depravity!"

"What about Kira?" the younger -and saner- pilot demanded. "If you're going to justify it that way, how come _he _doesn't have that right?"

"Perhaps he once did," the masked man said with a shrug, lining up his Judicium, "but he forfeited that right when he chose his path... one which, I note did not sit well with Falcon." He tightened his finger on the trigger...

...And the beam went wide, as Leanne's GuAIZ kicked him in the backpack from behind. "You have no right to talk about the Boss," she hissed. "If you hadn't used his creation this way, we would never have had to come here... and the Boss would still be alive. You _bastard."_

"Technically correct," he agreed amiably, aiming one of his DRAGOON pods backward. "But then, so was he, was he not? We're both just tools, people created not for our own worth but for the goals of others. Yet we both seized our own destinies, chose our own paths... and though our paths were not the same, they led us both inexorably to this point in time, when only one could live, and the other would die..."

"The Boss wasn't a tool," Leanne snarled, sideslipping to dodge an emerald dart from the DRAGOON. "He was used, yes, but he was _never_ a _tool!"_

"Have it your way," Le Creuset said with a shrug... and the next blast tore through her GuAIZ's right arm.

"Leanne!" Nicol called in sudden fear, as his cousin's machine spun away, out of control. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'll... be fine..." Leanne grunted, struggling against the centrifugal force that pinned her in her seat. "Just... keep him off me... a few minutes..."

"I will," he promised. "You've gone too far, Commander!"

Le Creuset snorted. "She has nothing to fear from me now, Nicol; even now, I have nothing but respect for the Gray Demons. Besides, it would be far more fitting for her to die with the rest of humanity... consumed in the conflagration Falcon has paved the way for."

Nicol gritted his teeth. "You _bastard!"_ he snarled, and rushed forward, saber blazing across space like a blade of fire...

* * *

_Darkness..._

_That was a change from the unremitting light that was his last recollection. But... did that mean he was dead? It was much like the last time, when his machine had detonated around him. _The _Archangel, he thought. _Did I succeed? Is she safe?

_"You're not dead yet," a voice rumbled, and he opened his eye -or thought he did- to see the distinctive features of a huge man in a white uniform. "You can't die yet, Boss."_

_He blinked, unable to understand what his eye was telling him. "...Sparky? But... but you died, slamming into Jachin... If I can see you... then I must be dead, too." After all, only the dead could see the dead, right? That didn't exactly make logical sense, but he didn't really care, under the circumstances._

_Sparky shook his head. "You're not dead, Boss, just unconscious. You're dreaming."_

_That didn't quite make sense, either, but then dreams usually didn't. "Then I will be dead soon," he said logically. "And maybe the better for it. I got us all this far; Kira and the others can take it from here, I'm sure. The kid's gotten good..."_

_"Idiot," another voice snorted, and he turned in shock to see a blonde-haired woman with malachite eyes staring at him._

_"...Laura...?" he breathed._

_"You can't die yet, Falcon," Laura Elsman told him. "You promised me you'd live... and you've still got things to do. Even if Zala and Azrael are gone, that's not the end of it. Have you forgotten that even Azrael had backers? Shiva was only going to be the first stage; after the war, there would still be LOGOS... and only you knew enough to be able to stop them."_

_"Paranoia," a third voice opined. "You're acting like a hero, Boss, but if you don't get your head on straight, everybody will be just as dead as the rats in that laundromat three years ago, because you never told anybody everything."_

_"Matt Russo," he whispered._

_"You can't give up now, Falcon," yet another familiar voice said. "You gotta protect Mir for me, okay? And the Captain will never forgive you if you don't come back to her."_

_His throat tightened. "Tolle..."_

_"Go on, Boss," Sparky urged. "It's not over yet..."_

_He closed his eye again, now reminded of all the sacrifices it had taken to get this far... and of how his own paranoia would make them all meaningless, if he let himself die now._

_"Go on, Falcon," Laura murmured, coming forward to stroke his face. "Go on... you can still have a life, with her... now go live it..."_

_"...Okay."_

_The voices and figures faded away, and there was light on the other side of his closed eyelid... and within, a seed exploded like a nuclear bomb..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"What's our status?"

By now, Murrue had managed to recover a semblance of calm, and had taken command once again. Ken's death had hurt her far more than she'd imagined it could, but she owed it to him to complete what he had set out to do, and she could hardly do it if she allowed herself to become an emotional wreck. _Later,_ she promised herself. _After the battle is over, you can collapse. Until then..._

"The ships have rejoined the formation, Captain," Sai said in response to her question. "_Odin_ has arrived to starboard, and _Eternal_ and _Kusanagi_ are to port. We're now reaching Jachin... I mean, we're now entering the space previously occupied by Jachin Due. We'll be in firing range of GENESIS within moments, Captain."

She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "Good," she breathed. "The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can find out if Plan B will even work." She glanced back into CIC. "By the way, did you ever have the chance to figure out how Dead Zone reached as far as it did? If I remember right, during the Zantetsuken incident it only covered a few kilometers, and that only with the aid of several other jamming devices..."

"Actually, Captain," Sai replied, "I think I _have_ figured it out. Remember, during Zantetsuken we only faced a few ships, and the technology was so new they'd only been able to fit Dead Zone on a couple of them. But that was a month ago, and this force was the one they were gearing up to use against the PLANTs themselves; as near as I can tell, every single ship in the Fourth Fleet was outfitted with Dead Zone jamming devices, all reinforcing each other, and thus expanding the range exponentially."

"I see," Murrue murmured. "That makes sense..." She frowned. "What's the status on the Peacemaker Force? I know Azrael ordered them launched before he died..."

"Mostly gone, Ma'am," he answered. "They encountered Commander La Flaga's team, and suffered heavy casualties; a few broke through, but several of our GuAIZ units are keeping watch near the PLANTs."

"Very good." _All right, Ken... it looks like we have a chance of pulling off your plan after all..._

"Approaching firing range of GENESIS now, Captain," Neumann reported. "It looks like they're in the process of replacing the alignment mirror... Romero, how's it look from your side?"

"Confirmed," Pal said after a moment. "It appears Zala left standing orders before he died, as ZAFT forces are continuing to prepare GENESIS for another shot. Also..." The weapons officer fell silent for several moments, scrutinizing his readouts. "There's something strange here; I'm getting a radar return from GENESIS that's not quite consistent with the blueprints Commander DiFalco downloaded into _Archangel_'s database..." Suddenly, he stiffened. "Captain, I'm reading heavy defensive weapons' emplacements on GENESIS itself! Heavy beam weapons charging; they appear to have a power rating higher than our Gottfrieds-"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Murrue snapped. "Tell the other ships to scatter at once!"

As Neumann hauled back on his controls, Flay hurriedly passed the information along to the other surviving ships. If GENESIS was equipped with defensive beam emplacements, most likely with a nuclear power source, then it would take only a few shots to blow away any one of them...

Murrue's eyes clung to the screen throughout the high-g maneuver, and she winced as she watched the _Eternal._ Fast though she was, she wasn't the most agile ship in the fleet, and she pulled away just a little slower than the others. Most of the ship pulled out of the line of fire, but part of her upper deck was still in range when the massive burst of emerald fire leapt out from the side of GENESIS' outer shell.

"Captain Waltfeld!" she called, even before the explosion faded from her sight. "Captain, are you all right?"

The _Eternal_'s Bridge appeared on screen a moment later, smoke-filled but otherwise intact. _"We're still here, Murrue,"_ Waltfeld assured her, coughing on the smoke. _"A little cooked, but we're still okay."_

Murrue sighed in relief. "Give me a damage report."

_"We lost the main cannon," _Aisha answered from being Waltfeld, consulting a display, _"as well as the catapult and a good chunk of the hangar; some casualties, including three fatalities, but not many people were down there. We don't have any mobile suits left, so..."_

Murrue nodded. "Good; but you'd better pull back, _Eternal;_ with your main cannon and one METEOR destroyed, and the other in use by the Freedom, all you have left are missile launchers. Those won't do much against GENESIS' phase-shift."

_"We know, Captain,"_ Lacus told her, batting at smoke. _"We're pulling out now."_

As she spoke, the wounded ship poured power into her main engines, now using speed to escape the powerful defensive weaponry. She'd be out of the fight now, but at least she'd be alive... _Which may be more than can be said for us,_ Murrue thought grimly. _Now we've only the three ships to take up against GENESIS, and we've lost some of _our_ weaponry, as well..._

"Captain," Pal called, breaking into her thoughts, "that cannon is charging up again; this time it's targeting us."

"Thirty degrees left ascension, Arnold," she ordered. "Romero, get ready to-"

Before Murrue could finish the order, twin streaks of antimatter fire erupted from somewhere behind _Archangel, _scorching across space and smashing into GENESIS' antiship cannon. Emerald Gottfried blasts followed, wiping out several clusters of antiship missiles before they could even think of firing a salvo.

She blinked in confusion. "Where did _that_ come from?" _It wasn't _Kusanagi_; their weapons aren't that powerful; and it wasn't _Odin. _She only has the one Lohengrin, so who-?_

It was an unexpected voice from the radio that answered her. _"This is Captain Delaney, of the _Asmodeus," it said. "Archangel, _are you still intact?"_

"Tom?" Murrue said in disbelief. "But... but you..."

He snorted. _"Come now, Murrue, it'll take more than that to kill a Gray Demon. I got to the Bridge elevator just in time; managed to get to a lower deck before the Bridge got melted off."_ His tone turned grim. _"I lost my entire Bridge crew there... but I've got a backup command staff in Auxiliary Control, and we've got the ship moving again."_ Tom's face appeared on the monitor, and he smiled savagely. _"The _Dominion_ made one mistake: she assumed taking out our Bridge would finish us. Unluckily for them, that's _all_ they took out; engines and weapons are both still at one hundred percent, and the only armor we lost was on the top deck of the superstructure."_

"It's good to see you, Tom," she said then, with an answering -though strained- smile. "Well, then, if that's your only problem, let's get to work."

_"Yeah."_ Tom's voice became briefly bleak. _"We... we can't let the Boss have died in vain."_

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due Remnants

* * *

There was a bizarre symmetry to the battle between Raiden and Providence, as their blades clashed. Both used combined weapons systems mounted over an arm, and now both had the energy blades from those units activated, crimson fire arcing across space right at each other.

Le Creuset chuckled as their weapons collided. "I'll give you this, Nicol," he told his old subordinate. "You never give up. An admirable trait... but one that's going to get you killed today. You realize that, don't you? Realize the futility of it all? Even if you stop me -which I doubt you can manage- you'll still die when GENESIS fires, and the flames of war are fanned anew..."

"I'm not going to die here, Commander," Nicol shot back, Raiden's left hand reaching for one of the spears mounted on its back. "And we _will_ stop GENESIS. With Chairman Zala gone-"

"Zala may be dead," Le Creuset told him, catching the phase-shift-tipped spear's thrust with his saber, "but Falcon's legacy lives on. Only Preybird could've have stopped GENESIS from firing, and with Falcon dead, all humanity will soon follow!"

"I won't let you do this, Commander!" Tossing aside the weapon -now useless, its tip cut off- Raiden opened fire again and again, spitting emerald energy at Providence. "We've spent too much blood getting here to let you win now!"

"Yes, you have!" the masked pilot agreed. "And your blood will be the next to be spilled!" His DRAGOONs set up a wall of green fire, inexorably advancing toward Raiden...

Nicol, in an uncharacteristic outburst, cursed vilely as the beams reached out for him. One leg vanished into melted scraps, his machine's head evaporated into free hydrogen, and one more precise blast tore through his right shoulder joint, blasting off the arm in a hale of shrapnel and depriving him of most of his weapons. "Why, you-!"

"Get out of here, Nicol!"

He turned his head in surprise. "Huh? Dearka? _Yzak?"_

"Go!" Yzak snarled, reiterating Dearka's command. "He's mine, Nicol! Get out of here before he kills you, understand?"

"He's _ours,"_ Dearka corrected, barely controlled anger in his voice. "I owe him too much, and I intend to collect on that debt." _For you, Falcon,_ he thought to himself. _And you, Laura... I'm sorry. I promised you I'd make sure he stayed alive, but I failed... I guess you're together again, now._

Nicol wanted to protest further, but knew his machine was too badly damaged. _I shouldn't push my luck; last time, Kira almost killed me..._ "Be careful, guys," he said aloud. "The Commander's machine is dangerous; I think it was supposed to counter Preybird..."

"Don't worry," Yzak said darkly, as Raiden began to retreat. "We'll be careful." He remembered all too well what had happened to Duel on the two occasions he'd engaged Preybird in battle. The first time, he'd ended up a basket case, and the second time... Well, that was what had gotten him mixed up in all this to begin with.

Le Creuset slowly shook his head. "And so it comes full circle," he murmured. "First Athrun, then Nicol, now the two of you; all that's left is for me to encounter Mu La Flaga and Kira Yamato... a shame that Falcon can't be included in that list."

"Shut up, Commander," Yzak said harshly. "There's only one thing I want to hear from _you:_ how _dare_ you lead us into a trap, like at Alaska? How could you not tell us about the Cyclops? And," he added, opening up with his beam rifle, "why did you give the Earth Forces the N-jammer canceler data? And how?"

"That sounds like several things, actually," his former commander pointed out, intercepting the attack on his shield, "but one answer suffices for most of them. It's quite simple, really," he went on, raising a DRAGOON curtain of fire as Duel unleashed a missile barrage. "I was trying -and succeeding- to bring the war to the same point Falcon was. In a way, I simply helped along his objective: forcing this final conflict between both sides. Except that _my_ final goal is not peace, but the destruction of our entire, corrupted race!"

"I don't care about any of that," Dearka said savagely, deploying his Death Blossoms as he drew the enormous zweihander. "Maybe I will later, but all that matters right now is that you drove my best friend to his death! I'll never forgive you for that, Commander!"

Le Creuset laughed. "If you think even the two of you together can defeat me, you obviously weren't paying attention when I was your commander... or to the power of Providence. Only Freedom and fallen Preybird could truly challenge me!"

"We'll see about that." Duel darted in, beam saber in hand, and once again the battle was joined.

* * *

"I can see why Kira and Athrun had trouble taking these guys down," Sophia commented to Mu, dashing sideways to avoid a blast from Raider's hyper-impulse cannon. "They may not be Coordinators, but they're still a real pain."

"Look on the bright side," Mu grunted, ducking the Mjollnir. "It's only one of them, and between the two of us -especially with that drug wearing off any minute now- we shouldn't have _too_ much trouble." He took the offensive then, slamming his shield into the spherical breaker and forcing it away. "Question is... where _are_ the other two? I don't see Calamity or Forbidden around, do you?"

The Kestrel spared a moment's attention to glance around, and her eyes narrowed. "I can see Forbidden," she said grimly. "Looks like he and Shiho just found each other; I wish her luck."

"Me, too," Mu murmured. "Don't want to lose another Demon..." Though Tom had turned up alive, they'd still lost Sparky and Ken today, and nearly his cousin Leanne... "But where _is_ Calamity?"

"I don't- Look out!"

Both machines scattered to the side... and so did Raider, as a wild burst of emerald and red-orange fire streaked toward them from "above". GAT-X131 Calamity had arrived, fresh from blasting ZAFT machines to bits, and its pilot was laughing. "Ha, got ya, you losers! Come on and die!"

"Orga, you idiot!" Clotho snarled at him. "You nearly blew _me_ away that time!"

"So what?" Orga Sabnak retorted. "_Dominion_'s gone, so we're goners anyway; who cares if I shoot you down, too?"

"Why, you-!"

Hyperion and Strike turned to one another in disbelief. "Is this for real?" Sophia wondered. "Are they really talking about shooting each other?"

"Sounds like," Mu confirmed, equally bemused. "How on earth did they ever work together if they were ready to shoot each other at the drop of a hat?"

"Forget it, Orga!" Clotho snapped. "You wanna shoot me, you can do it later; right now, we've got two of those machines that kept bugging us before shooting at us, so why don't we get a little payback before we worry about the drugs?"

Orga blinked, and Calamity glanced at the True ZAFT units, as if only just noticing them. "Oh, yeah..." His face took on a predatory smile. "Let's get 'em!"

"Uh oh," Sophia said simply, seeing Calamity charge right at her. "This could be bad. Mu-"

"Busy," Mu said shortly, fending off an attack from Raider. "Wish I could help, but I'm a little tied up right now. If I can get this guy off me-"

"That may be too late," she muttered, and cursed as a blast from Calamity melted her beam submachine gun right out of her hand. "If something doesn't happen fast, I'm gonna be space dust!" Another blast narrowly missed Hyperion's head, and another came perilously close to her cockpit-

And it stopped.

From behind the distracted Calamity, another machine had appeared, energized a beam saber, and with one swift cut melted through Calamity's torso, right at the mid-level of the chest-mounted Scylla. With all weapons being on the upper half of the mobile suit, the Earth Forces unit was suddenly rendered helpless... and then that saber came back and jabbed straight through Calamity's cockpit.

There was a brief, chopped-off scream from Orga Sabnak, and then silence.

Sophia blinked, almost unable to believe her sudden reprieve, and then blinked again as she saw who her rescuer was. "Justice...? But... Athrun, I thought-"

"Murdoch pulled a fast repair job," Athrun explained, powering down his saber again. "All that was wrong with Justice was a missing head and sabers, and _Eternal_ was carrying spares for both. Didn't take long to fix, really."

She snorted inwardly. _Probably just a mechanic wanting to show us flyboys -and girls- how a _real_ trooper works. Those guys at Victoria Spaceport were just like that... of course, there was also the guy who flipped out, stole a fighter, and flew off into Lake Turkana..._

The Kestrel was jolted from her reverie by the sound of an angry snarl from Strike. "Mu, what's happening?"

"Oh, nothing much," Mu grunted, dodging below an attack from Raider's hyper-impulse cannon. "This guy's just- Give me a break, you bastard!" he interrupted himself, as Clotho lined up for a shot on Strike's cockpit. "I won't..."

As often happened on a battlefield, multiple things happened simultaneously: Clotho Buer's finger tightened on the trigger, his dose of gamma glipheptin wore off with agonizing suddenness... and behind Mu La Flaga's eyes, a blue seed burst.

Athrun whistled in wordless admiration as Strike threw its shield into the path of the hyper-impulse blast, used its verniers to thrust around to Raider's rear... and brought all four gunbarrels around to point directly at Raider's torso. They fired as fast as their capacitors could recharge.

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I admit it," she radioed, taking in the sight of a pair of wings attached to a cloud of molten metal. "I'm impressed. I don't think I've ever seen a mobile suit reduced to looking like the Blob. So, what do you have planned for an encore?"

Mu started to answer, then cut himself off, as a familiar sensation filled his head _You... so _there_ you are. Now it's time to pay you back for everything..._ He wrenched Strike around, reeled in his gunbarrels, and jetted away from the other two mobile suits. "I'm going to go settle accounts," he said in response to Sophia's question. "I always figured Falcon would be the one to do it... but if he can't, I will."

Athrun watched him go, confused. "Where's _he_ going?" he wondered aloud.

Sophia shook her head. "If I understood him right, he's going to go kill Le Creuset. I remember he and Falcon used to argue -not seriously, I always thought- about which of them would get to bring down Le Creuset. Falcon always said he had a prior claim, and that he felt it was something he needed to do for those he lost at Endymion... but it looks like Mu will have to do it instead." She felt the fresh pain welling up again. "Oh, Athrun, I can't believe he's gone..."

Athrun swallowed. "I'm sorry, Comm- ah, Sophia. I'm an only child, so I don't know what it is to lose a brother, but..."

"Technically, I'm an only child too," she told him softly, "but I know what you mean. And... Well, think of it this way: losing Falcon feels kind of like how you felt when you learned Kira had become your mortal enemy."

He winced. "I see..." Then he blinked, as he remembered something else. "Oh, yeah... what about the Forbidden?"

Sophia glanced toward where she had last seen the green Earth Forces machine and Shiho Hahnenfuss' blue CGUE DEEP Arms. "I don't know, exactly," she admitted, watching Forbidden stagger, and seem almost to go into convulsions. "But if I had to guess, Andras' gamma glipheptin just wore off, which means Shiho is about to be in for either an easy battle... or a really hard one." She closed her eyes. "I hope she makes it. Falcon's old unit is running low enough on people as it is..."

* * *

Beam saber clashed with beam claw, and Morgan Chevalier grinned. "Well, what do you know," he said to his opponent, absently wishing for a cigar. "A worthy adversary. I was starting to worry that all the good ZAFT pilots were on _our_ side."

"Not all of our aces are as warped as DiFalco," Heine told him, pulling his claws away. "The man's brilliant, and I believe his intentions are probably good, but he must've taken one blow too many to come up with a course of action like this."

Chevalier snorted. "It's true he didn't exactly come out of his battles unscathed, but it wasn't head trauma that turned him against you guys. He just had a better idea than most how crazy Zala was... before Sparky Cooper rammed _Arkbird_ down his throat, anyway." He cursed, then, as Heine's fire ripped into his upper right gunbarrel, reducing it to scrap attached to his mobile suit by a frayed wire.

The sudden change in mass and vector of the shredded gunbarrel, still tenuously connected to his Dagger, threw his machine off course, causing a slight spin that he had to fight. _Have to jettison the wreckage,_ he thought, struggling with his controls. _Compensate for the spin with the remaining gunbarrels..._

The point became moot a moment later, as Heine came in close, beam claws powered up, and burned clean through the wire. "Can't have you losing that easily," he mocked. "Besides, I'd never have it said that I didn't best you in a fair fight."

"There's no such thing as fair fight," Chevalier told him, repaying the gesture by opening up with his rifle. The emerald dart tore across space and impacted on the GuAIZ's left arm, shattering the shoulder and melting through hydraulics like a hammer of fire. "Your own Commander DiFalco always said that, and that's how he lived... and died."

"Died is right," the ZAFT pilot agreed, eyes narrowed as he took in the loss of his arm. "I don't think he's coming back from this one; an antimatter blast is even worse than what happened to him at Endymion, last year." He sent out his grappler claws, even as the 105 Dagger's remaining gunbarrels spiraled in at him.

Chevalier tried to move aside, but the wires of two of the gunbarrels were severed by the sharp claws; they drifted out into space, intact but powerless. "Touche," he granted. "But his cause didn't die with him." As thought to confirm his words, off in the distance fire from multiple shipboard weapons streaked across space and slammed into GENESIS' outer surface. "We'll still win this, you know. The Earth Forces are practically out of the fight, and with Zala gone..."

"Unlike the Earth Forces, our pilots and ship captains know how to take the initiative," Heine informed him, not even blinking when a blast from Chevalier's rifle melted the crest off his GuAIZ's head. "We won't be defeated so easily."

"Ha; we'll see about that, won't we?" _Yeah,_ Chevalier thought to himself, just as a beam shattered his rifle, _we'll see about that... but _I_ may not. This guy's good..._

Heine laughed. "You're down to your beam sabers and a single gunbarrel, old man," he mocked. "I think it's time we ended this, don't you?"

"Yeah," Chevalier grunted, "let's." He reached up, drew a saber, and charged...

A charge that was promptly interrupted by a hale of bullets from "above" the battle. "Morgan!"

Both pilots looked up, and blinked almost in unison as _Archangel_'s long-disused Moebius Zero dove toward them, wired gunbarrels spitting bullets as fast as they could cycle at Heine's GuAIZ. "Where'd _that_ come from?" Heine demanded. "That hasn't been seen since-"

He broke off into a litany of curses as the projectiles smashed into his machine. First went its head, mangled beyond recognition, then his remaining shoulder was blasted into a million pieces, followed rapidly by crushing blows to the GuAIZ's legs.

Chevalier shook his head in confusion. "Alley? What are _you_ doing here? I didn't know you even knew how to fly one of those things!"

"I was tired of sitting by on the _Archangel_ every time you guys went into battle," Alicia Cateau told him. "And Commander DiFalco's death made me mad, so I decided it was time to do my part. When I saw that upstart ZAFT pilot about to blast you to atoms, I figured this would be a good time to intervene."

"Your timing's appreciated," he admitted. "But how'd you do it in the first place?"

She smiled a predator's smile. "I've been training on a simulator for one of these for a couple months now... and Commander DiFalco left a copy of the same program Dearka uses to control the Death Blossom system in the Zero's computer. Came in handy, no?"

"Perfect timing," Chevalier said again, and looked back at the now-retreating GuAIZ. "Well, it was a good fight, Mister Westenfluss," he called. "Till we meet again, eh?"

"Yeah," Heine agreed sourly. "Next time, though, you won't be so lucky."

Cateau looked at Chevalier's image with an odd expression. "Friend of yours, Morgan?"

He grinned. "Something like that, Alley. Something like that..."

* * *

"It's fortunate Providence is nuclear powered," Le Creuset mused, almost to himself, as he blocked a thrust from Duel and used his DRAGOONs to shoot down a missile spread from Buster. "Otherwise, I might've lost this battle of endurance. I am impressed, though, that so many of you hate me enough to kill me..."

"You led us into a trap at Alaska," Yzak snarled. "That would be enough for me. And how many of my comrades were sacrificed before that, huh? Was Heliopolis just another part of this?" Tossing aside his shield, he yanked out his other saber. "Were all the civilians who died there just expendable pawns for your insanity? Answer me, Commander!"

"I don't think I need to remind you, Yzak," his former commander said calmly, "that it was, in the end, Falcon himself who precipitated the collapse of Heliopolis. And I also should not need to remind you that, at the time, you were fully in accord with my intention of using heavy weaponry within the colony."

"That was then," Yzak retorted, thrusting his sabers at Providence's cockpit. "I didn't know any better then; but I sure do now!"

"At least you've learned something since joining Falcon's forces," Le Creuset said dryly. "You certainly hadn't learned anything by the time we destroyed the Eighth Fleet. After all, you personally shot down a shuttle full of civilians that day..."

That brought Duel's pilot up short for an instant. "What... what are you talking about?" he demanded hoarsely. "That was a troop transport..."

Le Creuset laughed, and took advantage of the distraction to move in a DRAGOON pod. "What? Your new comrades never told you? That was a military shuttle, Yzak, but it was actually carrying a load of Heliopolis refugees, from a lifepod _Archangel_ picked up before fleeing the remains of the colony. They were on their way down to Earth, escaping the battle, when you chose to take your anger at the Strike pilot out on them..."

"No... it... it can't..." The moment's inattention, as Yzak struggled with a revelation he knew instinctively was not a lie, was enough for the DRAGOON emitter to unload a massive burst of energy at the Duel.

"Yzak!" Dearka shouted, seeing his friend's mobile suit vanish in smoke and fire... and then he smiled, seeing what had actually happened.

_"You bastard!"_ Yzak snarled, as Duel hurtled out of the explosion. Its assault shroud had been destroyed, but Duel itself was largely unscathed, and now he charged Providence once more. "You... if you hadn't attacked Heliopolis like that, it never would've happened!"

"Deny your own guilt if you want, Yzak," Le Creuset retorted, "but it won't change the facts! You, like the rest of humanity, are a murderer! That's why the entire wretched species must be wiped out!" He lashed out with Providence's right foot, delivering a smashing blow that sent Duel spinning away.

"I won't let you," Dearka hissed. "Falcon died for this victory, and I won't let you take it away from us!" His Death Blossoms spiraled out, spitting rapid-fire emerald death at the rogue ZAFT unit. "You're the one who brought us to this!"

"Yes, and I'll be the one to finish it, too!" With almost absurd ease, the DRAGOON system targeted the Death Blossoms and pounded away at them, easily predicting the computer-controlled maneuvers and using those predictions to reduce the remote weapons to scrap. "Pathetic, Dearka. I expected better of you!"

"You haven't beaten me yet," Buster's pilot said through gritted teeth, and, brandishing the zweihander, charged directly at Providence. "I'll take you down, no matter how I have to do it, and no matter the cost!"

Le Creuset sneered. "You don't have what it takes, Dearka. Even your friend Athrun Zala couldn't stop me; what makes you think _you_ can?" His massive Judicium rifle spat powerful bolts of emerald death, meeting Dearka's reckless, enraged charge with a barrage of destructive energy. "Just die, and be done with it! Even if you survive me, you won't survive the coming conflagration that will engulf the world!"

Yzak clenched a fist, watching Buster begin to take damage. First when the zweihander, smashed away at the hilt, then the pair of beam sabers stowed on the backpack. Another power bolt melted away Buster's head, and the final was going to strike the machine's cockpit...

...Except that by the time the blast arrived, Buster had been knocked aside by another machine. "I don't think so, Le Creuset!" Mu La Flaga snarled, releasing the Buster and turning to face Providence. "We've come a long way, you jackal, and it's time we finished it!"

Le Creuset smiled broadly at the appearance of the Strike, and laughed heartily. "Why, Mu La Flaga! Such a pleasure it is to see you again. How long has it been, since last we met... It was at Mendel, wasn't it, the day I revealed to you what I am... son?"

"You're not my father," Mu hissed angrily. "Yzak, Dearka," he added, glancing to the side, "get out of here. This bastard's _mine."_ _Falcon's not here to see it through... so I will. For you, brother... and for all who died because of this madman's insanity._

"All right," Yzak said reluctantly. "Dearka, come on; let's get you back to the _Archangel._ You're in no shape to continue the fight."

"...Yeah..." Dearka sounded weary, as though it had been he that had taken damage, not Buster -though the lost hit had caused a minor explosion in his cockpit, cracking his faceplate and opening the scar Mir had given him months earlier- and as though his anger had left him drained of everything else. "Yeah, let's go back..."

"I won't be there for long," Yzak informed him. "This may be Commander La Flaga's fight, but I still need to do_ something..._ and I think that Sutherland guy Commander DiFalco mentioned is still alive." He smiled briefly. "Don't worry, I don't intend to die here; for one thing... I need to know if what Le Creuset said is true. About the shuttle, I mean." _That would explain the weird looks people kept giving me when I first joined up,_ he thought. _If I really did that... then maybe I owe Kira an apology..._

* * *

Shiho Hahnenfuss found herself hard-pressed, in a way she hadn't been since her time with the Gray Demons on the Grimaldi Front. _This guy's crazy!_ she thought to herself, fending off a scythe attack from the Forbidden. _He's completely lost his mind..._

That was certainly true; within Forbidden's cockpit, Shani Andras was going out of his mind, literally... and not very quietly. His dose of gamma glipheptin had worn off, and without any way to get more, the pain was driving him mad. "I'm gonna kill you all," he snarled insanely. "The pain, the pain, the pain...!" He triggered a blast from his plasma cannon, forcing the DEEP Arms to dodge to one side.

"I guess I drew the short straw today," Shiho muttered to herself, unleashing a burst from her beam cannons. "If this guy were in his right mind, I might be dead now. A mass-produced model against one of the Alliance's G-weapons..."

"You're all gonna pay," Shani went on mindlessly. "You... and you... and you...!" Exactly who he was referring to was unknown, but a passing Moebius -one of the last of the Peacemaker Force- was abruptly immolated by another plasma bolt.

The next hit a less fortuitous target, and Shiho cursed as her left beam cannon was simply melted out of existence by the incredibly hot blast. "Okay, now I'm getting tired of this," she muttered. "One of us is going down, Natural, and it's not going to be me, understand?" Abandoning her cannon attacks entirely, she tightened the CGUE's grip on the antiship blade, twin to the one Ken DiFalco had long ago stolen from Victor Tempest's unit... the one which had eventually been destroyed when Tolle Koenig made his final, futile attack on the Aegis, months before.

Making the dash back into melee range of Forbidden wasn't easy; completely devoid of any sense, Shani was pumping out bolt after bolt after bolt of plasma... but that very mindless persistence proved to be his downfall, when only moments later that constant firing had its way with his machine.

In the instant before the repeated use of a weapons-grade plasma device ran Forbidden out of power, the sheer rate of fire overheated the plasma cannon, and an explosion ripped through it, spewing debris and a final gout of flaming plasma into space.

_Now's my chance!_

Before the insane Earth Forces pilot could figure out what to do -or even notice he was still attempting to fire a weapon that no longer existed, Shiho brought the laser sword around in a fierce arc, slicing completely through his scythe. Then, continuing the motion, she ripped it right through Forbidden's midsection.

Shani Andras had an instant to realize he'd just been cut in half, and he began to scream... and GAT-X252 blew apart, sending chunks of debris and shrapnel everywhere.

The last of the Earth Alliance Forces' state-of-the-art mobile suits had been destroyed. Now, the only true factors left on the battlefield were the remnants of the Earth Forces' fleet -held together solely by Rear Admiral William Sutherland's grim determination- GENESIS, and ZGMF-X13A Providence and its pilot, Rau Le Creuset.

* * *

"I'm glad to see you, Mu," Le Creuset admitted, as Strike faced off in front of him. "Much as I appreciated the chance to see off my former subordinates, our connection goes back much farther. If it's our fate to die here, it would be quite fitting if we were to do the deed to each other."

"Funny," Mu said cuttingly, "I thought you said the same thing about Falcon; or were you just lying, like you always do?"

"Oh, it was true enough; but as he's dead, you'll have to do." The masked man laughed. "Come now, Mu, don't tell me you haven't dreamed of this day just as I have! Ever since the first time we met on the battlefield, at Endymion Crater, you've longed for vengeance. Don't try to deny it!"

"I don't," the Hawk of Endymion bit out. "I always wanted to take you out; but it should've been my brother here, not me! _You_ drove him to this, and you know it! It was you behind it all, orchestrating all of this -even GENESIS- to bring about your own twisted end!"

"Maybe so," Le Creuset conceded, "but this is in fact human nature! To be the strongest..." His Judicium opened up, sending a powerful bolt at the Strike. "To go the farthest..." His saber ignited, and he boosted forward, swinging the blade of frozen fire. "To climb the highest!"

Mu jerked back, and sent his gunbarrels spiraling out. "Is there a point to all this nonsense?" he demanded. "Or are you just spouting off?"

"You mean you still don't understand what I'm getting at?" Rau shook his head. "Come on, Mu, you should understand by now! Mankind cannot hope to live in peace; we're always biting at each other, trying to prove one man is stronger, faster, better than another. We are incapable of living together in harmony. Even Falcon recognized that!" He sent out his DRAGOONs, spreading out the same web of laser fire that had caused Providence's other opponents to fall today.

"Falcon was always a world-class pessimist," Mu grunted, throwing Strike into a crazy corkscrew of evasive maneuvers. "He called it realism, and maybe it was, but he wasn't always right, and I'm not about to agree that _you _are, either!"

"Ah, but today, I _am,_ Mu," Le Creuset told him. "How many of your comrades have fallen today, hm? Most of your GuAIZs, a number of your Orb allies... the entire crew of Falcon's _Arkbird,_ and even Falcon himself. It's an endless cycle, Mu, and your actions today will be merely a part of history's endless repetitions!"

"Only if I don't stop you leading us all down this twisted path," Mu snarled... and snarled again as a laser beam pierced Strike's left foot, blowing it off. "Ha! You think that'll be enough to stop _me?"_

"It's certainly a start, isn't it?" Laughing, Le Creuset fired off another burst, while dodging one of Mu's own gunbarrels. "And by the way," he added, "I've already proved once today that wired gunbarrels are useless against divine Providence!" To prove his point, several emitters targeted one of Strike's gunbarrels, and poured a massive barrage of energy into it. For a moment, it almost seemed to melt, and then it detonated explosively, hurling blobs of molten metal into space, where they instantly froze in the endless cold of absolute zero.

_That bastard,_ Mu thought to himself, hurriedly detaching the cable -which, no longer attached to a counterweight, threatened to warp around his machine in a dangerous fashion- and throwing the other three gunbarrels into an evasive pattern. _His skill is unreal; even with the SEED, I can't hit him, and neither could the others. It's like... it's like fighting Falcon. What _is_ it about those two?_

"Ha!" Rau laughed. "It's like I told Yzak; only Freedom and Preybird ever had a chance of stopping me, and only Falcon ever had the will!"

"Kira might surprise you," Mu grunted, as another gunbarrel shattered under the withering rain of fire. "I think Falcon taught him a lesson before he died; but that's not going to matter, because- _ahh!"_ Another DRAGOON beam pierced Strike's torso, setting off an explosion that carried into the cockpit. Mu's cry of pain was forced from him as his instruments exploded, peppering him with fragments.

Le Creuset laughed yet again. "See, Mu? I told you that you couldn't win! Now you can just-" He broke off suddenly, as a familiar sensation entered his head. "That's-"

A burst of beam cannon fire scorched across space toward him, forcing him to throw Providence to one side. "Get away from him!" Kira Yamato shouted. "This is between you and me, Le Creuset!"

"K... Kira..." Mu coughed. "What... are you...?"

"Fulfilling a promise I made to a friend," Kira told him, as his METEOR came between Providence and crippled Strike. "I promised Falcon that if anything happened to him, I'd finish his mission, and that's what I'm going to do. Sometimes, if there are things in this world you want to protect, you have to fight for them!"

Rau Le Creuset couldn't help but smile. "Well, well, well... a true battle at last, hm, Kira Yamato? You may at least have the strength to damage me... which will at least make my death interesting!"

* * *

Earth Forces _Agamemnon_-class Battleship _Doolittle,_ Bridge

* * *

Rear Admiral William Sutherland simply couldn't believe the disaster this battle was becoming. They'd come to the PLANTs with a full _three_ orbital fleets, along with the _Dominion,_ the three G-weapons, and the Peacemaker Force. They'd blown up everything in their path, culminating in the nuclear bombardment of the asteroid fortress Boaz. Right about now, they ought to have been celebrating their final victory over the PLANTs and the hated Coordinators.

Instead, Fourth Fleet was completely gone, annihilated by the weapon of mass destruction Azrael had identified as GENESIS, Fifth and Seventh Fleets had taken heavy casualties, the Peacemaker Force was effectively wiped out, and even _Dominion_ had been brought down by the traitorous _Archangel._

"What do we do, Admiral?" his second in command asked. "The PLANTs are rallying; even with Jachin Due and Zala gone, they've got a large force... and True ZAFT is becoming an ever-greater threat. How do we counter them all, Sir?"

"Be quiet a moment," Sutherland snapped. "I need to think."

_It's a good question,_ he admitted to himself. Had _Dominion_ still existed, he'd have passed the decision up to Director Azrael; as it was, the difficult choice was in _his_ hands now, and he honestly wasn't sure what to do. _We can't surrender to those space monsters,_ he decided. _No matter what happens, we won't give them _that_ satisfaction. Still... we lack the forces now to bring this to a successful conclusion. If we stick around much longer, we die..._

"Send out orders to retreat," Sutherland said at last, voice sounding nearly as dead as Azrael himself now was. "There's nothing more we can do here. We'll have to regroup, and come back another day."

"Yes, Admiral," his communications officer acknowledged. He didn't sound happy about it, but he was no dummy, either. ZAFT -and, perhaps even more so, True ZAFT- had won this battle. That did not mean, however, that they had lost the war. "Sending out orders-"

"Admiral!" the detection officer interrupted. "Mobile suit incoming; direction zero-zero-zero! Detecting armed weapons-"

Sutherland himself gasped audibly at the sudden sight, as GAT-X102 Duel rose before the forward viewport. "By all that's holy..." he whispered, eyes wide as he took in the face of something he and his organization had intended to make use of themselves. "That's..."

_"I know you're there, Admiral Sutherland,"_ Yzak said over the radio. _"Commander DiFalco told me about you; and he also told me he really, really wanted to kill you after the Board of Inquiry back at Alaska. Well, he's not here... and I always enjoyed dealing with Earth Forces scum like you."_ Duel raised its rifle, and _Doolittle_'s Bridge crew took in the sight of the grenade hanging just below the rifle barrel. _"It's over, Sutherland. For all of you."_

"For the preservation of our blue and pure world..." Sutherland whispered, and the grenade exploded from the rifle, punched through the forward viewport, tore through deck and deckhead alike, and ground to a stop at Sutherland's feat... just before detonating.

Even had enough of the _Doolittle_ survived to identify the ship, it would've taken years to identify William Sutherland's body.

* * *

Lagrange Point Five, Near Jachin Due Remnants/_Archangel_, Bridge

* * *

"You're the one to blame for all this," Kira snarled, opening up with all four of his METEOR's beam cannons. "You brought us to this!"

"On the contrary," Le Creuset replied, turning and boosting away, toward GENESIS, "your presence here has little to do with _me._ It was mankind who brought themselves to their inevitable end... and it was Falcon himself whose manipulations brought you here!"

"Ken made a lot of mistakes," Kira acknowledged, "and never told us as much as he should've, but he only brought us here to stop what _you_ set in motion, by perverting his work! He was a better man that you could ever _hope_ to be!"

"It's true that Al Da Flaga would've been delighted with him," Rau admitted, glancing back to fire his Judicium. "Falcon was the son he'd always wanted; and better yet, unlike me, he suffered no genetic defects. A perfect specimen, a fitting successor for that arrogant man. Too bad they never had the chance to know each other!"

"And it's _your_ fault!" Kira shouted, igniting and swinging a beam sword. "I heard it was _you_ who started the fire that killed Mu's parents; and if it weren't for you, Ken wouldn't have come here, and he'd still be alive!"

"That's my only regret," Le Creuset told him. "I would've wanted to have one last confrontation with him, before the end. But if I cannot have that, the destruction of all humanity will do nicely!" He swung out Providence's right arm, indicating Earth. "You see, Kira? GENESIS' next target is Earth itself; once that machine fires, everything will be over! _Everything!"_

"Not if I stop you first!" The METEOR rolled, spinning through yet another web of laser fire, and a salvo of missiles poured from its launchers. "I won't let you destroy everything we've worked for!"

"Ah, but you're nothing more than an irritant, a pest! You're someone who should never have been allowed to exist, boy!" Rau smiled cruelly. "Do you really think you'd have survived this long had Hibiki not made you what you are? Do you think you can just return to society when all this is over, with none the wiser? Think again!"

"I'll use my abilities to stop you, Le Creuset," Kira snapped, as a DRAGOON-fired beam tore into the left arm of his METEOR. "But they don't define me! I'm a human, not just the leftovers of an experiment!"

"And who's going to believe that?" Le Creuset demanded. "Who will accept that you are anything more than the last relic of a twisted dream? When people learn of your existence, they'll envy you; and when they realize they cannot acquire your abilities, that envy will turn to hate! There's nowhere in the world you can hide from that kind of hate, Kira! Blue Cosmos and those like them will never stop hunting you!"

"Even if it's true, it doesn't matter!" Freedom's pilot shot back, along with another beam barrage; but the energy surge was too much for the METEOR's battered left arm, and he was forced to jettison it just before it ripped itself apart. "No matter what happens to me, I'll do what's right... even if I have to die!"

"Admirable sentiment," Le Creuset sneered. "But what use is it if you die without even accomplishing your goal?" He unleashed green fire from his DRAGOONs, tracing a line of bright emerald death toward Freedom. "Death in vain is nothing more than life wasted!"

"This won't be in vain," Kira grunted, throwing his METEOR to one side of the barrage and retaliating with both smaller beam cannons and the remaining larger. "We've already won, Le Creuset!"

"Nonsense! Zala lived long enough to initiate GENESIS' firing sequence; all Cooper's sacrifice did was buy you a little time and deny you the ability to stop GENESIS from firing!" Rau smiled cruelly. "Only Falcon knew the full details of that machine's design, but even I know that there was only the one set of controls. No matter what you do now, GENESIS _will_ fire a second shot!" He boosted agilely away from the rain of fire, and triggered his Judicium. The pulse of emerald fire arced across space, impacting precisely on the muzzle of the METEOR's surviving one-twenty millimeter beam cannon, traveling all the way down the bore and blasting it to pieces.

"We're not finished yet," Kira fired back, tossing away the METEOR limb before it could hamper him further. "That's one thing about humanity that you just don't understand: we _never_ give up, and that's why we _will_ survive!" Both of his smaller cannons fired, along with Freedom's plasma cannons, and he drew his beam sabers. _I hope this works the way it always did for Ken..._

Le Creuset would've ignored the attack completely, except that one of the powerful plasma bolts scorched past Providence and wiped one of his DRAGOON emitters from the universe. "Impressive, Kira Yamato! Perhaps you have a point about humanity's tenacity... but their willingness to throw it all away as did your mentor will always be their downfall." He laughed. "Or it would be, except that today will be humanity's _final_ downfall!"

"You're wrong!" As the other DRAGOONs fired, Freedom's sabers moved in a way much like Ken DiFalco had manipulated his own weapons, time after time, catching laser blasts and deflecting them back into space. "Anything built by human hands can be destroyed; GENESIS is no exception!"

"Maybe so, but only a nuclear attack could stop it now, and thanks to your own efforts, there aren't any nuclear weapons around to do the job." Rau smiled in cynical amusement. "The existence of GENESIS, the repeated use of nuclear weapons... it all points in the same direction, Kira: it is human nature to fight with one another, destroy and devour one another!"

"That's garbage!" Another beam came at Freedom, only to be deflected back at Providence; this time, it smashed right into the emitter that fired it, shattering another DRAGOON pod.

"Is it? You and Falcon _proved_ it, Kira, when even you were moved to open fire on one another! In this world, even comrades cannot truly trust one another!"

"We made a mistake," Kira acknowledged. "We didn't understand... but we _learned_ from that, Le Creuset! Humanity learns from its mistakes, but _you_ never do!"

"Of course not!" Le Creuset agreed readily. "After all, I can hardly learn from the 'mistake' when everything I see of humanity just confirms my opinion of them!" His nine remaining DRAGOONs darted in, pouring a murderous conflagration of energy into the METEOR's engines.

Kira cursed, hastily abandoning the weapons platform, and began to understand why Ken had preferred to simply equip his mobile suit with as many weapons as he could, rather than relying on a separate unit. "It's your crazy logic that tells you that," he told the masked pilot, twisting around another blaze of emerald fire. "Maybe if you weren't insane, you'd see the _real_ world, instead of your own delusions!"

"There's no difference between illusion and reality to the person experiencing it," Le Creuset pointed out. "As far as you know, _you_ might be the one with the delusion!"

_"Psychological warfare,"_ Kira could almost hear his dead mentor saying. _"Let is get to you, and he's won the battle even before the killing shot. Ignore it, or turn it to your advantage."_

"What's real is what's right in front of me," he said firmly, shoving the insane man's words to the back of his mind. "What's real is that I have to stop you, no matter the cost to me!"

By now, their battle had taken them close to the _Archangel._ "Oh, really?" Le Creuset laughed insanely. "What about what it might cost your _friends,_ hm? Did you ever consider that? Falcon is already gone... so let us now send his flagship to the next life to be with him!" He spun around, and his DRAGOONs suddenly ceased their attack on the Freedom.

It took Kira a moment to understand his enemy's intention, and then his eyes widened in horror. _"No! _You can't- _I won't let you-"_

On _Archangel_'s Bridge, Murrue was about to order another -probably futile- barrage against GENESIS when the two mobile suits flashed by. Then one of them came back, and she gasped. Providence's massive Judicium rifle was pointed directly at the viewport, with the DRAGOON emitters grouped to either side. _Oh, no,_ a distant corner of her mind thought in almost detached fear. _He's going... I guess we'll be together soon, Ken..._

_I always wondered if I'd know when I was about to die,_ Natarle thought, oddly calm. _Now I know: yes. Like many members of my family before me, I die in battle..._

Mir sat frozen in her seat _No... not like this... I'm sorry, Dearka. I thought you'd be the one at risk, but it was me..._ She swallowed. _Hey, Tolle... I'll be seeing you soon..._

Providence's rifle began to glow, and Rau Le Creuset smiled. _A pity, really; they came so far, only to have it end so easily... and pointlessly..._

An emerald flash brightened the viewports, and Murrue Ramius prepared herself for death... until she realized she should've been dead in that instant. "What...?" Her eyes widened, for the emerald fire was far brighter than even the Judicium's discharge should've been, and it came from starboard... in the form of forty streaks of light.

Providence flung itself backward, and Le Creuset's eyes went wide with shock and disbelief as a familiar, impossible sensation filled his mind. "What the- _Impossible!"_

Nearly a kilometer out, but closing fast, came a shimmering shape, emerging from the curtain of Mirage Colloid with a beam saber in either hand and ten remote beam emitters circling it. "I died once already," Commander Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco snarled. "I can't die twice!"

The Bridge crew looked at each other in disbelief, and Murrue gasped audibly. "Ken...? It... it can't be... I watched you die..."

But it was. Both arm-mounted light-wave generators were sparking ruins, several patches of phase-shift armor looked as though they'd been boiled off, but it was indisputably ZGMF-X00A Preybird that emerged into full view, DRAGOON system giving Providence a taste of its own medicine. _"Sorry I'm late,"_ Ken told Murrue, his face appearing on the screen. _"I was out of it for a while there, but now I'm back."_

His flightsuit was scorched, and his faceplate shattered, blood trailing down his face, but there was a grim smile on his face... and he was _alive..._

Le Creuset's expression went from disbelief to a wide smile. "Falcon! I should've known you were too clever to be killed so easily. It's good to see you... Brother."

"Save your breath," Ken advised. "You're no brother of mine... and you'll need all your breath if you want to last any time at all." He glared at his long-time nemesis. "Today, it ends, Rau... no matter what."

Behind Murrue, the Bridge elevator opened, and Sophia -who had landed not long after the destruction of Calamity and Raider- entered, supporting an injured Mu. "Falcon..." she breathed. "You're alive..."

Mu's face broke into a smile. "He's the one, no doubt. The Ace of Aces."

Preybird and Providence stared at each other for a long moment, and Ken smiled thinly. "I'm not through yet," he whispered.

_Alicia Sharpe... Matt Russo... Victor Tempest..._

The tableau shattered suddenly, as Preybird's antenna emitted a narrow beam of red light; most of those watching recognized the effect, especially when the DRAGOON units returned to the wings

_Rudolph Krieger... Montgomery Campbell... Yoshinori Nogura..._

The white column came back along the beam's path, but this time there was something about the result that bothered Sophia. It seemed... more intense... something that was confirmed by the way the power receptor surfaces actually _glowed._

_Tatyana Iosefova Sokolov... Petra von Strasser... Eric Tellerman..._

"Falcon, you're crazy," Sophia said desperately, now understanding what was happening. "You're overcharging the systems; you could blow apart-!"

"I don't have a choice," Ken told her quietly, throwing Preybird into motion... toward GENESIS. "It takes a massive energy bombardment to break through; even the amount of power I normally funnel through isn't enough." He bled off some of the new energy into his thrusters, powering toward an access hatch. "_Archangel,_ target that hatch for me; I don't have any weapons left that'll open it in time."

_Talia Corialis... Laura Elsman... Lance "Sparky" Cooper..._

"This is for all my men who fell before me!" he called, his eyes wide and clear, and Pal didn't even wait for further instructions before firing a Gottfried burst at the access hatch.

"I can't let you do that, Falcon," Le Creuset said calmly, throwing Providence into the chase. "No, I'm afraid I cannot permit you to destroy your creation!"

"Godspeed, Ken," Murrue whispered, as the two machines vanished into the interior of the vast weapon called GENESIS. "Come back to me..."

"Come back to _all_ of us," Sophia agreed, choking up. "How did he _do_ it, anyway? He took a positron blast full force... we _saw_ him dissolve under the bombardment. _Nothing_ could've survived that!"

Mu smiled slowly (and painfully, given his wounds). "We saw him dissolve, all right," he said wearily, "but we all forgot that Mirage Colloid has the same visual effect. He must've been trying to make it look like he was dead, throw the enemy off guard; probably intended to tell us by tight-beam once he was clear, but got knocked out by an explosion. Probably when his light-wave barriers shorted out."

_"It must've been the Gerbera that bought him enough time to wait out the positron stream," _Kira put in. _"That thing was pretty tough; it would've taken an antimatter blast to break it like that. With the trans-phase armor he added, nothing short of a meteorite could've broken it kinetically."_

"I don't care _how_ he survived," Murrue murmured. "Just that he _did..." And now, we _both_ have something to live for. So please, Ken... stay alive..._

* * *

GENESIS, Interior

* * *

"We've come too far along this path for me to let you stop GENESIS, Falcon," Le Creuset called. "We've reached the end of the path; this is what _deserves_ to happen to humanity, and you know it as well as I!"

"You're wrong, Rau," Ken retorted, clashing one of his sabers against Providence's as they flew into the long tunnel. "I made mistakes; I'll be the first to admit that. My folly with Kira nearly cost us both our lives, and my single-minded drive to reach this point in time, convinced that this was the only way, nearly cost us everything. But this is _not_ how the world is meant to end; and if it is, then I'm going to change it!"

"You can't change Fate, Falcon," Rau disagreed, clashing with one of Preybird's blades while the other scored a hit against his left leg. "Nobody can, not even you!" His DRAGOON system opened up, trying to hit Preybird's wings.

"We'll see about _that."_ Ken spun around, his momentum still carrying him inward, and chopped down with his saber; the blade of molten fury carved through a DRAGOON pod, ripping and tearing it apart. "I don't believe in Fate, and what I don't believe in can't bind me!"

"So if you don't believe in gravity, you can fly like a bird?" Le Creuset chuckled. "On the other hand, perhaps you can, Falcon; you truly are the wind, personified... and I'm truly impressed by your skill. Besides you, Kira was the only opponent that was actually able to damage Providence!"

"You can't defeat me, Rau," Ken said flatly, even as another DRAGOON pod shot off his right foot. "I have something you never will: the will to live, to bring this all to an end, and the instinct to survive."

Another DRAGOON pod fell victim to Preybird's blades, and Le Creuset shook his head. "We've reached the end of the path, Brother. It's too late to stop what is happening." He checked a timer on his display. "We have only a couple of minutes before GENESIS fires; do you really think you can stop it in time?"

"I designed it, I know how to stop it." Ken grinned ferally. "And a couple of minutes is plenty of time for me to deal with you. You're not as good a pilot as Kira, and I survived even him!" His Picus CIWS fired with unerring precision, and another DRAGOON turned to space dust.

"But can you survive the fury you're about to unleash?" Rau wondered, hardly caring that he was down to only six emitters. "You know the power that will be released when you fire that weapon in here!"

"If it kills me, then so be it! This was my sign, and this is my atonement; I'd rather live, but death in this cause is not too high a price to pay!" His left leg was abruptly melted off at the knee, but he didn't even care; he was nearing his objective at last.

"So you would circumvent the very doom you helped to bring about?" Le Creuset laughed. "You are the architect of humanity's demise, yet you would try to stop your own work!"

"Maybe I did bring this about," Ken shot back, "but now I'm trying to stop it! Because unlike you... I'm still human!" He lunged toward Providence, stabbing with his sabers.

"And that's exactly why all this has to end!" Providence slid sideways, causing one blade to melt a furrow along its side instead of boring inward, caught the other with a sparking sizzle on its own blade, and brought its DRAGOONs together, and fired a concentrated burst at Preybird. "_Because_ we are human, we too must be annihilated!"

Preybird twisted around the incoming fire, and most of it did nothing more than melt a hole in the side of the tunnel; but part of it caught the machine's left shoulder, traveled down, and obliterated the entire arm. "I disagree," Ken informed him, seemingly unconcerned that his only remaining weapon of use was a single beam saber. "Mankind's nature may be tainted, but though as long as mankind exists, there will be war, there will also be kindness and compassion!"

"And here I thought such concepts were foreign to you," Rau mused, bringing his saber forward against Preybird's remaining blade. "I always thought you the perfect warrior..."

"There's no such thing," the ace told him, "because no human is perfect. But I'll tell you this: if _you're_ the alternative, I'm glad to be who I am!"

"You're a monster, nothing more! That's what Metzinger meant you to be! Just like Tempest!" Le Creuset shook his head. "I'm amazed I didn't recognize the man's features before, but it wasn't so obvious when he was young... and I never paid much attention to him until he already wore the mask. But you know, Brother, he was the same as us!" He triggered his Judicium, aiming the emerald pulse for the targeting systems he knew lay within Preybird's head.

"I never cared about Metzinger," Ken informed him, and his saber snapped into a duelist's salute, neatly intercepting the fiery blast, redirecting it into the tunnel ceiling. "My origins have never mattered to me. It's who I am_ now_ that matters, not my birth! It's what my friends and family think of me that I care about, not what a mad scientist tried to make me into!"

Now the two machines emerged into the very core of GENESIS, and suddenly there was room to maneuver again. "This is it, Falcon!" Rau shouted. "The true end of the path!" He poured energy into his verniers, driving his saber in toward Preybird's cockpit. "No matter what happens, this place is where our long battle finally comes to an end!"

"For once, we agree," Ken said through gritted teeth, and threw Preybird to the side at the last moment. As he did so, his years of training in the art of the blade paid off; he knew the exact moment to strike against an opponent who had over-extended himself. Preybird's remaining arm drove its saber in with all the force its artificial musculature could muster, thrusting the fiery blade deep into Providence's shoulder, the weapon's tip coming out the backpack.

The blade's hilt exploded, taking Preybird's right hand with it, but it did its job; Providence's left arm blasted off its body, hurtling away toward one of the distant walls of the massive chamber.

The two machines then boosted apart, with Providence taking up a position directly between Preybird and the wall separating the core from the nuclear cartridge storage. "Impressive, Brother!" Rau shouted, calling back his few remaining DRAGOONs to circle around his mobile suit, much as Ken had done when first facing off with Kira, and his Judicium rose jerkily to firing position, the arm holding it damaged by several near-misses but still functional. "But this is humanity's destiny! _They_ brought us to the inevitable end! No matter what you do here, destiny cannot be denied, Falcon!"

Laser blasts began to stream past, dangerously close to Preybird's cockpit, but Ken ignored it all, jerking Preybird violently to avoid the deadly beams but remaining totally focused on his objective. _Here goes... I hope I make it, but if I don't... I love you, Murrue._ A blast finally connected, all too close to the cockpit, but he didn't even flinch as energy filled the Nataraja. _"Forget_ destiny," he snarled, and pulled the triggers. Twin beams of red-orange, annihilating fire, began to spread from the twin satellite cannon, just as Providence fired one final burst, and GENESIS' timer reached zero...

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

Murrue gasped for perhaps the third time in only a few minutes, as GENESIS finally discharged its second shot. "No," she whispered. "No, he can't have failed... not when he came so close..." The scarred young pilot had fought for this end for just over a year, and for him to fail now, so close to snatching victory from the jaws of defeat...

Behind her, Mu and Sophia closed their eyes; neither wanted to see what would happen now. _So this is what it's like to watch a planet die,_ Mu thought in an oddly detached way. _This makes even Endymion and Alaska look like bottle rockets..._

_Is this it?_ Sophia wondered. _Where do we go from here? Earth will survive... but almost all of humanity will be dead in a few seconds..._

An audible gasp from Sai brought the crew's attention back to the screen... for something else was happening. "Captain," he said with some difficulty, "I'm reading a massive energy pulse from within GENESIS; antimatter, and..." He didn't finish, because there was no need to.

The beam seemed somehow to falter, and the middle of GENESIS, far from the emitter bore, began to glow with an inner light. "What the..." Mu whispered. "Is that...?"

_"The Shiva Option..."_ Tom Delaney whispered, from _Asmodeus'_ Bridge.

The pulse of gamma radiation ceased entirely, long before the deadly stream could reach across the hundreds of thousands of kilometers between it and Earth, and GENESIS itself began to warp before their eyes. Explosions were visibly going off on the inside, many of them in succession, all with the power of nuclear bombs. The chain reaction the Shiva Option was supposed to initiate had come, and GENESIS now tore itself apart from the inside. Pieces of debris, several of them larger than the _Archangel_ herself, hurtled into space, others melted into globs of metal, and the whole structure came apart in a gigantic ball of fire...

Not a breath was taken within the _Archangel_'s Bridge, as they watched in awe as the weirdly beautiful explosion began to fade, until Murrue hesitantly spoke up. "But... what about Ken...?" she whispered. "Is... is he...?" She couldn't bring herself to complete the question.

"He made it," Mu said with certainty in his voice. "He must've..." He smiled slowly. "Because he's my brother, and we can make the impossible possible..."

It was Flay who first noticed, after several moments of silence, the static coming over the radio. It had a peculiar modulation... almost like it was trying to talk... "Captain?" she said hesitantly. "I'm getting something here... but I can't quite figure out what..."

"Put it on," Murrue ordered. _Not many transmissions out here would be directed at _us_ right now,_ she mused._Our mobile suits are back, and neither side likes us..._

Flay complied. For several moments, there was nothing _but_ static... but then, about the same time a familiar shape appeared in the viewport, words came through the speaker. _"There is only one ultimate rule in war,"_ Ken DiFalco's voice said, hoarse but strong. _"Survive..."_

With those words, Murrue finally felt tears sliding down her face... and they all knew that it was, at last, over.

They'd won.

* * *

_Archangel,_ Hangar

* * *

It was Freedom and Strike Rouge that carried the battered Preybird back aboard the _Archangel._ It was missing its right foot, left leg below the knee, right hand, and left arm as a result of its battle with Providence; the catastrophic destruction of GENESIS had also ripped off all ten wings, the twin satellite cannon, and its head.

In short, it would take months of restoration to bring the mobile suit back to anything resembling combat-ready status.

None of the people who hurried into the hangar to greet the returning pilots cared, though. All that mattered to them was that the pilots had come back alive. Not uninjured, perhaps, but alive... to live out the peace their actions had secured.

Kira and Cagalli quickly exited their machines, shared a brief embrace, and moved to Preybird's battered hatch. "I hope I still remember how to open this thing," Kira muttered, punching in commands he remembered from when Mu had been forced to open it, after the nuclear attack that had nearly destroyed Preybird once before. "Come on, come on... There we go."

The hatch -so like the Strike's- split open, allowing the pair access into the interior. Cagalli quickly darted in -it was _her_ partner in there, after all- and came to a floating rest beside the pilot module. "Ken?" she queried softly. "Can you move?"

"...Yeah," Ken managed. "I'm a little beat up, though... and watch my left arm. I think it broke during one of those explosions."

"I'll be careful," she promised, and set to work unstrapping the weary ace. "You're lucky to be alive, you know; how'd you pull it off _this_ time?"

"After I fired the cannon, I shunted all power into the wing-mounted light-wave bubble generator," he explained. "It shorted out a couple of seconds into the event, but that was long enough for me to start moving away from the epicenter. Besides... strange things happen in explosions, and this was really no exception." He winced as his partner gently pulled him out of the cockpit. "I'll tell you this, though: I hope to never, ever have to do that again."

"You're not the only one," Murrue told him, pushing off from the hangar's deck. "If you ever give me a scare like that again, I'll..." She couldn't finish, and just floated there, looking at him.

Ken managed a smile. "To be perfectly honest... I was pretty sure, for a while there, that I was going to die." He coughed. "I told you a few months ago... we were never able to predict what would happen when I unleashed that much power from the Nataraja, and directed it all at a few dozen nuclear bombs. Theories varied, most of them involving very bad things; catastrophic energy release like that usually isn't good for anything caught nearby. That's why... I used light-wave barriers so extensively. If I wanted to survive, standard anti-beam shields wouldn't be good enough; the nuclear chain reaction would just catch that, too, so I needed something stronger. And since there are so few known ways of piercing a light-wave barrier..." He trailed off, and settled for reaching out to her shoulder with his good hand.

Murrue held him at arms' length. "If you'd died out there," she told him, looking right into his eye, "I never would've forgiven you." She held the stare a few moments longer, then softened it with a smile. "But it's over now, isn't it, Ken? Your long mission... even your redemption..."

"Yeah," Ken agreed. "I... I am so very tired..." His eye closed, and he slumped into her arms, unconscious... the long burden of his self-assigned task finally lifted from his shoulders.

* * *

Author's note: _Dominion_ has fallen, the Earth Forces G-weapons have been destroyed, and Rau Le Creuset and GENESIS have both perished. The war is over... but how will the survivors deal with peace?

Whew... this may well be the longest thing I have ever written. This chapter seemed almost endless, but now it's finally finished. Well... I guess that's all I have to say. Let me know how it was, so I can get to writing the epilogue. -Solid Shark


	46. Epilogue: Journey's End

I don't own anything except Ken DiFalco, his team, and Sophia DiFalco

I also do not own the _Odin;_ it is Deathzealot's creation, and the credit is his, not mine

* * *

The fierce battles that raged around Jachin Due were decisive in ending the First Bloody Valentine War. Through the courage, strength, and sacrifice of the men and women of the six ships that chose to oppose ZAFT and the Earth Alliance alike, the nineteen-month-long conflict between Earth and the PLANT colonies finally came to a close. 

The battles between ships and mobile suits were not the only ones to take place, however. Not long after Lance Cooper sacrificed himself and his ship to eliminate the insane Patrick Zala, the agents of True ZAFT that had been left in the PLANTs themselves stormed the Supreme Council Chamber in Aprilius One. Led by Eileen Canaver, the last member of Siegel Clyne's Council faction to remain in hiding within the PLANTs, they swiftly detained and arrested the caretaker government, led by Zala's most trusted supporter, Ezalia Joule; in what amounted to a bloodless coup, full control was secured even before the weapon of mass destruction known as GENESIS was destroyed by its own creator.

In the end, the process was peaceful; Joule's own son contacted her as soon as he learned of Canaver's actions, and convinced her -with a dose of his new commander's inside knowledge- that Zala's actions had nearly led to the loss of everything she believed in. With that knowledge in mind, Joule and her fellow Council members made no protest as Canaver secured temporary control of the Coordinator Homeland.

The operation that had long ago been termed "The Shiva Option" was a complete success. For all the sacrifices that had been required, including the entire crew of the True ZAFT Mobile Suit Transport _Arkbird,_ the plan worked, with a far lower body count among its own than its creator had dared dream.

The war was over, and a tense but controlled situation existed within the PLANTs... yet the architects of that very success were almost conspicuously absent from the post-war proceedings...

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Eileen Canaver's Office, October 1st, C.E. 71

* * *

As they waited just outside the door of the interim Supreme Council Chairman's office, Murrue Ramius noted with some amusement that her companion seemed uncomfortable in his current uniform, without his perpetual trench coat over it. It was all very proper, of course; a ZAFT red uniform, with the gray feather collar tabs and distinctive shoulder patch that denoted a member of True ZAFT's core group, the Gray Demons. Tailored to perfection, the collar was probably as uncomfortable as that of any dress uniform she knew of... though it might also have been the sling that was bothering him. 

"It'll be fine, Ken," she said encouragingly (she herself still wore the white uniform of a True ZAFT commander). "It's not like this is the first time you've been in this particular office, you know."

Ken DiFalco smiled faintly. "Yeah, I know... but last time I was here, it was Patrick's office, and my arm wasn't in a sling." He did not, Murrue noticed, mention the bandages covering several broken ribs; but then it was unlikely he was complaining about physical discomfort at all. Stoic even now where injuries were concerned, he was probably just worried about keeping up appearances.

"I think Chairman Canaver will understand," she pointed out dryly. "It's only been a week since you were injured, and it _was_ for a good cause. You're lucky it was just an arm and a few ribs." _Even luckier when you considering that I'd have killed you myself if you hadn't come back to me..._

"True enough," he agreed quietly, a distant look in his eye (as always, his left was covered by the patch that kept out much of ultraviolet and infrared spectrums). He was remembering someone, a man not much older than he, who had been one of his best friends -and his most trusted subordinate... "I nearly got blown up two or three times during that battle," the ace continued after a pause. "As it is, I guess I got off pretty lightly, at that."

"Commander DiFalco?" the Chairman's secretary politely interrupted. "The Chairman will see you now."

Ken nodded. "Thank you." Steeling himself one last time, as Murrue's hand slipped through his good arm, he stepped into the office.

It had been over a year since his last time in that room. Spacious as ever, with the same furnishings that he remembered, it was a brighter place than he recalled. Its previous occupant had preferred low lighting... but it was no longer Patrick Zala seated at that desk.

In fact, the room's occupant wasn't seated at all. "It's good to see you, Commander DiFalco," Eileen Canaver greeted, reaching out to shake the pilot's hand. "And may I say, it's an honor to meet you, Captain Ramius."

"Thank you, Ms. Chairman," Murrue replied, shaking the woman's hand in turn. "I must say, I never expected to walk into this office."

"I'm sure. And frankly, were it not for the efforts of you and your forces, you wouldn't have been able to; the Earth Alliance's nuclear weapons would've seen to that." Waving them to a couch near one wall, Canaver settled into a chair facing them. "The PLANTs owe all of you a great debt," she said quietly. "To quote a twentieth century politician, never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few."

Murrue had to smile when Ken immediately replied, in his usual quiet voice, "That would be Winston Churchill, prime minister of Britain, just after the Battle of Britain in the Second World War. As I recall, a Royal Air Force fighter pilot, upon hearing that, said 'Someone must have told him about our bar bills'."

Canaver smiled appreciatively. "I should've known you'd be familiar with it, Commander; though from your reputation, I somehow doubt bar bills are of any consequence here."

"True. Besides, I can't get drunk."

"Quite." She leaned back in her chair. "I realize the two of you have a celebration to attend, so I won't keep you long; I just asked you here because I was curious about your plans, now that the war is over."

"That's all right, Ms. Chairman," Murrue assured her. "As for our plans... Well, first thing we're going to do is take a vacation. Ken tells me he hasn't had one since the fighting started in the blockade, back in 69, so it's time he got some time off." She smiled. "Time I did, too; this year hasn't exactly been relaxing."

"No doubt." Canaver steepled her fingers in thought. "I was actually more interested in your long-term plans. After all, even with the war over, there's still much to be done. For example, though the neutron jammers have effectively eliminated the radiation by now, the Orb Union will need a lot of work to bring it back to its former status."

Ken nodded. "Yeah. The nuclear attack devastated anything even remotely connected to the military, as well as several civilian areas; hardly a surprise, when you consider that nuclear weapons are hardly precision ordnance." He idly rubbed his eyepatch. "I understand that part of the truce agreement holds that the Earth Alliance relinquish all control over the remnants of Orb."

She nodded. "That's right. In the formal treaty, we hope to restore national borders to what they were pre-war; the Earth Alliance will give up Orb, Carpentaria, and the United States of South America, while we give back Kaohsiung, Gibraltar, and our holdings in the South African Union. Also, we hope to include an anti-nuclear provision. We have no problem with the use of nuclear reactors for civilian purposes, but the scourge of nuclear weapons is something we hope never to see on the battlefield again."

"I can't disagree there," the ace agreed quietly. "They cost me my home, my first love, and very nearly my life." His gaze sharpened. "But you understand, don't you, that the genie is out of the bottle? There have been many treaties over the years regarding the use of nuclear weapons, but in the end, they also return to the battlefield."

Canaver sighed. "You're very likely right, Commander. But at least we can keep them off the table for a little while."

"There I can agree." Ken nodded slowly. "If you want my opinion, I'd say this treaty concept is sound; it avoids the problems the Versailles Treaty caused after the First World War. 'We were stabbed in the back,'" he quoted. "That was one justification Adolf Hitler used. If you try to restrict the other party too much, there will be resentment, and it _will_ be justified. A treaty that attempts to solve all the problems for one side only leads to the war beginning anew a few years down the line."

"We're aware of that," she assured him. "And that's why I'd like to ask you to be on hand when we start hammering out the treaty for real." She raised a hand then, to head off his protest. "I know you're not a politician, or a diplomat, Commander. I won't ask you to help draft the treaty. All I want is the perspective of a student of history who also participated in the war; if there's a bad historical precedent for any of it, I want to know about it _before_ we end up with another Versailles."

Murrue frowned thoughtfully. "You know, Ken, she has a point."

Ken rubbed his eyepatch again, and sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. All right, Chairman, you have a consultant... though I warn you now that my perspective won't be exactly unbiased."

"I'm aware of that, Commander." Canaver tilted her head. "On another matter... I gather you have no plans to return to active duty in ZAFT."

He shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Too much bad blood between me and ZAFT now, Chairman; while there are many who, in the aftermath of the Battle of Jachin Due, understand what I was doing, there are also a great many who consider me nothing more than a murderous traitor. And even those who think I was doing the right thing would be wary of me now, after all the ZAFT blood I spilled to end the fighting."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I can see that... So, what _do_ you plan to do now?"

Ken smiled almost wistfully. "For a start... Well, like you said, Orb needs a lot of work. Most of the population survived by fleeing to Ame-no-Mihashira, but now that the islands are habitable again, they'll need to rebuild the cities. I started out in engineering, you know, so I thought I might turn my talents to architecture."

Canaver blinked. "I think that's an excellent idea, Commander... but I must confess, I can't quite picture you helping to build cities instead of planning how to conquer them."

He grinned slightly. "To be perfectly honest, Chairman, neither can I. War has been my profession since early adolescence, with my engineering talents geared toward weapon development. But my war is over, and it's time to try my hand at building peace, instead of war. I'll leave peace_keeping_ to a younger generation."

She smiled in amusement. "You know, Commander, that sounds a little odd coming from someone only eighteen years old... but I suppose it must seem a lot longer, to you. You were under a burden no one should've had to carry."

"It was my own fault," Ken said simply. "GENESIS was my responsibility. My sin, for which I had to atone. But I've found redemption now, in the destruction of that infernal machine and the man who chose to use it to try and annihilate humanity." He scowled then. "I understand that the decision has been made to classify Rau's actions."

Canaver nodded. "I'm afraid so. It's the opinion of the majority of the interim Council that releasing the details of Commander Le Creuset's insanity would only hurt the PLANTs. I'm not sure I agree with that, but there's little I can do." Her gaze hardened. "I can assure you, however, that Zala's actions will not be covered up. Even if we could hide atrocities of that magnitude, we wouldn't; what he did must never be forgotten... and can never be forgiven."

"That'll be hard on Athrun," Murrue mused. "It sounds like it won't be healthy to be a member of the Zala family for a few years..."

"I know," the Chairman said quietly. "And for that, I'm sorry. However, we're already making arrangements to provide Athrun Zala with a new identity, one untouched by his father's stigma. It's not fair -no one should be judged by the sins of their fathers- but it's the best we can do."

"And in the meantime," Ken murmured bitterly, "Rau's actions will never see the light of day." He met the woman's gaze challengingly. "He had confederates, you know."

Canaver nodded. "I know. And that's another reason I asked you here, Commander." She peered at him intently. "You've long hinted that even ousting Zala and removing Azrael wouldn't be the end of the matter. I won't ask you for details; I am well aware that it may be best for me not to know... but I have a proposal for you."

The ace tilted his head. "What kind of proposal?" Murrue noted, though, that he didn't reject it out of hand; there was a curious gleam in his eye, like he was anticipating his next challenge.

_Which doesn't surprise me at all,_ she thought. _I know him too well; he'll find the challenge of rebuilding Orb enjoyable, but his heart is that of a warrior._ She smiled to herself. _Well, whatever it is... at least it won't be right away. And we'll face it together..._

"It's something right down your alley, I think," Canaver was saying. "One thing I saw during this war -and the interim Council agrees- was that having a third party, beholden to neither side, was a very valuable thing. An impartial group, that fought against both sides to restore peace... That's something this world needs, Commander. I've discussed the matter with Lady Rondo Mina Sahaku, and she has agreed to my proposal of a jointly-funded organization, supported by both the PLANTs and Orb, but answerable to neither one. A peacekeeping force, of a sort, with broad military and police functions, commanded by someone who need not have the skills of a politician of diplomat. Someone with an experienced eye for military realities, and a sense of right and wrong that both Lady Sahaku and I trust."

"In other words," Ken said slowly, "me."

She nodded. "You. I think we're all agreed that you made a number of errors during the war, most notably GENESIS and your... questionable handling of the situation with Kira Yamato. However, throughout you demonstrated you had a clear sense of right and wrong, and a talent for staying objective under even the most adverse circumstances. A man like you would be ideal for command of the organization we envision."

The ace glanced at Murrue, and she nodded. _Why not?_ her look clearly conveyed, and he leaned forward. "Tell me more."

"Well," Canaver began, encouraged by the pilot's response, "it would, as I said, be supported by both Orb and the PLANTs. Within the Homeland itself, this organization would have essentially complete access to even the most secret military and civil facilities; Orb, once back on its feet, will give you about the same privileges. Now, your usual function would probably be as more of an anti-terrorist force, since terrorist actions tend to be more common than full-blown wars. As such, the ability to act without overt military force would be essential; that's another reason we want you for this job. The covert actions of you and your subordinates before True ZAFT itself came together proved that you know how to operate in the shadow world of antiterrorism and more sensitive police matters."

"It's something I've had to get used to," Ken acknowledged. "I think, though, that it would be best if I not use the title of 'Commander' in that role. Not only would it suggest a continuing, active connection to ZAFT, but under the circumstances, it's probably a good idea if we simply let the Gray Demons -at least the surviving ones- lapse into obscurity." He swallowed, remembering a sacrifice from only a week before. "The gallant actions of those like Lance Cooper must be remembered, but I myself -and, I suspect, Leanne and Tom- prefer not to remain in the spotlight too long. I've done my part; now it's time to move on, and let the world forget."

Canaver nodded in understanding. "We'll see what we can do about that, Commander. As to a title... I think 'Major' would work well. It has paramilitary connotations that would fit such an organization, and its common usage is close to your old ZAFT rank."

"Major..." The ace frowned, considering it for a moment, then nodded. "All right, that works. Certainly no one would expect the Grimaldi Falcon to operate under such a title..." He winced at himself. "Grimaldi Falcon... how I hate that name."

Canaver glanced at Murrue, puzzled, but the younger woman simply shook her head. _He still can't let go of Endymion,_ she thought sadly. _It wasn't so obvious before Jachin, but the name that ZAFT once held in such high esteem only served to remind him of the one battle on the Grimaldi Front that he truly remembers... the one that cost him most of his team and nearly his life._

After a moment, Canaver shrugged, and continued. "If you choose to accept, Commander, I'll leave the organizational details to you; you're not a politician, and I'm neither a soldier nor a policewoman. I leave that to the professionals."

Ken closed his eye and lowered his head, thinking. _The war is over... I can just walk away from it all, go home and leave the fighting -and the dying- behind... Except that I no longer have a home, do I? Junius Seven is gone, Heliopolis is shattered, and the PLANTs will be hostile to me until the scars have had a chance to heal. There's always Orb, once reconstruction starts... but I can't bear the thought of being trapped in a gravity well, denied the freedom of the stars..._

Murrue watched him, understanding better than almost anyone alive what was going through the pilot's mind. _He wants to let it all go, start a new life, and forget the war... but as long as he is who he is, and the world remembers the name Ken DiFalco, he's got almost nowhere to go. Ken... what will you do? Where will you go? Whatever you decide... I'm with you._

At last, the pilot looked up, and met her gaze. "Well, Murrue? What do _you_ think?"

"I think that it's time for you to start over," Murrue said simply. "You can't go back, and you can't stay where you are... and if I know you, the warrior will always be inside you. You can be happy designing architecture as a side job, but you'll always be driven to find the next challenge, and you know it."

Ken smiled slightly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked back at their host. "All right, Chairman Canaver. I'll take the job. And, while of course I can't speak for them, I suspect Leanne and Tom will also be looking for work. I just wish... Never mind." He shook his head, trying to dispel the memories. Later, in private...

Canaver raised an eyebrow at the reaction, but refrained from comment. "Thank you, Commander... or should I say, Major. We can discuss the details later; but there's something I might mention now. I understand you have a dislike for living on planet?"

He winced. "Yeah, you could say that. You could also say that I'd get lost if I went ten meters without a guide." He remembered all too well the last time he'd gotten lost on Earth...

She smiled. "Well, I doubt you'll need to worry about that. According to what Siegel and Yuri have told me, you captured a space station from the Earth Forces during your hit-and-run operations leading up to Jachin; from what I know of it, especially given its remote location, I expect it would do nicely as a base for your new organization."

Ken nodded thoughtfully. "You're probably right. I do have one question, though: under the circumstances, it would probably be unwise for us to use the name True ZAFT, or Gray Demons. What exactly will this unit be called?"

"Something suitably mysterious," Canaver replied, "that can't be definitively connected with the PLANTs or Orb, thus helping to emphasize the third-party nature of the outfit. We were thinking of calling it 'Section Nine'..."

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, Cemetery for the War Dead

* * *

After climbing out of the official transportation Canaver had insisted on supplying, the two made their way down the path to where the others were waiting, both in a contemplative mood. There would be celebrations ahead, but first it was time they honored those whose lives had been lost in the conflict. 

As they walked, Murrue glanced sidelong at her companion. "You know," she murmured, "you were being pretty mysterious back there. It looked to me like Canaver knew you knew something, but didn't want to ask... so _I'm _going to. Just what is it that has you so eager to take command of this new organization? There must be more to it than just boredom."

Ken was silent at first... but his silence didn't last long. The time for his eternal secrets was over; in his new life, there'd be no room for hiding things from those close to him. "The end of the war was not the end of the cause that gave rise to it," he said at last. "Patrick is dead, and so is Azrael... but there are other radical elements waiting in the wings in the PLANTs, and even Azrael had someone behind him."

She frowned. "But I thought Azrael was the leader of Blue Cosmos."

He nodded. "He was. But Blue Cosmos was only part of a larger organization, which very few people even realize exist. They provoked the war, used Blue Cosmos as a weapon... and I highly doubt they'll be satisfied with how the war ended. It may take years, it might even take a decade, but they'll be back, setting up yet another conflict."

Murrue sighed. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. What's their motive, though? Genetic prejudice, like Blue Cosmos and Zala?"

Ken snorted. "No, although I expect they're no fonder of Coordinators than the average Blue Cosmos diehard. Actually, their motive is pure greed: they're a consortium consisting mostly of weapons manufacturers, intent on increasing their own profits by fanning the flames of war. That's how I heard the story, anyway. I first caught wind of them last year, when I was helping set up security for the conference in Copernicus that ended up bombed; I heard the occasional rumbling about them throughout the early stages of the war, too. When I deserted ZAFT, and began setting up what would become True ZAFT, I had my people start looking into the matter, and they dug up a lot of dirt on quite a few prominent individuals." He scowled. "A couple of them are highly-placed in Orb, and therefore untouchable... for now. But they are out there, and they are a danger."

She nodded slowly, understanding dawning. "Which is one reason Leanne and the others were so fanatical about keeping you alive, even beyond the bounds of friendship." She looked at him shrewdly. "Let me guess: most of the information about them exists only in your head, right?"

"Old habits die hard," he said simply. "But that's a big part of why I accepted Canaver's offer. With such sweeping access to both Orb and the PLANTs, with significant -and legal- resources all our own, Section Nine will be able to make a dent in this consortium's -they call themselves LOGOS- operations. At first, we should be able to operate with relative impunity; it'll take time for them to realize that Section Nine is straying beyond their 'primary' mission of counterterrorism. And eventually, we'll work our way up the chain -hopefully with some arrests, certainly with a few dead bodies- until we can deal with the big fish."

Murrue smiled, and squeezed his arm. "Well, I'll be with you all the way, Ken. I'm not letting you get away from me now."

"Good."

The gathering was coming into view now, over a hill. In a cemetery made depressingly large by the sheer scale of the conflict, there was plenty of room. "Boss! Murrue!" Tom Delaney called. "Over here!"

As they ambled over to the group, Ken smirked at his old teammate, and called back, "That's _Major_ to you, Captain; there've been a few changes."

The engineer-pilot turned mobile assault ship-captain shook his head tolerantly. "Something tells me Chairman Canaver bamboozled you into something during that meeting, 'Major'. Well, can't be any crazier than the last time..." His face fell suddenly into shadow, as he remembered someone else from "the last time", who was no longer with them.

"I know, Tom," Ken said quietly. "That's why we're here..." He was not speaking of his new career.

Standing around a new memorial, the group was an eclectic one. They all wore the same cut of uniform -save for the _Kusanagi_ and _Odin_ representatives- but the colors and insignia varied amongst them, a collage of green, gray, red, and white, with the both variants of the True ZAFT emblem, as well as those of Orb and _Odin_'s independent faction.

Though they were collectively a group, they tended to stand in pairs; Kira Yamato and Cagalli Yula Athha stood to one side, quietly talking with Athrun Zala and Lacus Clyne, Miriallia Haw knelt with Dearka Elsman, looking at a pair of names on the monument itself; Andrew Waltfeld and Aisha exchanged war stories with Rear Admiral Lewis C. Halberton and his flag captain, Jason Chance... who stood with Natarle Badgiruel. Ledonir Kisaka, captain of the_ Kusanagi,_ appeared to have fallen into his bodyguard habits, watching the perimeter with almost unconscious care.

Sophia "Victorian Kestrel" DiFalco and Mu "Hawk of Endymion" La Flaga were holding an earnest conversation, a lot of it with their hands as they described maneuvers they'd pulled in early battles of the war, before either of them got involved with the _Archangel._

Yzak Joule and Shiho Hahnenfuss appeared to be swapping battle techniques; Ken smiled to himself at that. _Yzak may be oblivious, but I know Shiho. She'll get him in the end; she's one of my Demons, after all..._

Flay Allster and Sai Argyle were off to one side, conversing in low tones; exactly what they spoke of, the ace preferred not to know. It wasn't his business, and whatever issues the two still had, it was something they would have to work out between themselves.

Asagi Caldwell, Mayura Labatt, and Juri Wu Nien were in the middle of an earnest discussion with Morgan Chevalier and Alicia Cateau; it seemed that the two ex-Earth Forces pilots were at loose ends, and the Astray test pilots were looking for something to do while Orb slowly began to rebuild. _Hm; might have to talk to them,_ Ken thought, making a mental note.

Nicol Amalfi and Leanne Eldridge, along with the rest of _Archangel_'s Bridge crew, rounded out the group of True ZAFT higher-ups; the rest of the crews of the True ZAFT ships were off celebrating in their own way, away from the senior officers. It was something Ken had learned long before: lieutenants and below prefer not to rub elbows with captains and above when all they want to do is get drunk and forget the battles.

"I guess everyone's here, huh," Ken murmured to Murrue. "Think it's time?"

She nodded. "Yes. And you're the one to do it, Ken; you were there from the beginning until the very end... and you're the one who's always making speeches anyway."

He gave her a quizzical look -even now, he remained cheerfully oblivious to his own oratory habits- but stepped over to the monument's base anyway. It was a cenotaph... and inscribed upon it were the names of all the people they had lost in the long war, from the Bloody Valentine until the Second Battle of Jachin Due. It was a long list... but one that needed to be honored.

"It's quite the victory that we won, these past days," Ken began without preamble, effectively shutting off the muted conversations. "A couple of hundred of us stood against the millions on both sides, be they ZAFT, Earth Forces, or Blue Cosmos irregulars. The odds were against us, and both sides desired our destruction, but we chose to fight anyway. We all had our own reasons; Kira fought for an end to the bloodshed, for example. And to be sure, that was a part of my own thinking. But I fought mostly for the PLANTs, for my fallen comrades... and, in the end, for my own redemption. The rest of you no doubt had your own reasons; not one of us thinks exactly alike." His one-eyed gaze swept solemnly over the gathering, and he had to swallow before he could continue. "And we won... but not all us who fought are with us here today, save in spirit. Ending a conflict whose destruction was exceeded only by the Reconstruction War at the beginning of the current era was only accomplished at great cost. For some of us, like me, that cost first drove us onto this path less traveled by. I lost my home and the one I loved at the Bloody Valentine, and over half my team at Endymion. My sister and I both lost our parents at Heliopolis. Murrue," he went on, nodding at his captain, who had become so much more to him, "lost someone dear to her as well, in the war." He forbore from mentioning how it occurred; even now, some of his deeds were better kept private. "And the _Archangel_'s first loss came on April Seventeenth of this year, when Tolle Koenig chose to fight to protect his friends and the girl he loved, and fell in his attempt."

At those words, Athrun lowered his head, still ashamed of that act. Though Mir had forgiven him, he still wasn't sure he could forgive himself...

Mir herself closed her eyes, and leaned instinctively into Dearka's comforting embrace.

"That, unfortunately, was not to be the last life lost in our struggle," Ken continued, past a lump in his throat. "Perhaps the single greatest example is Orb, where the _Archangel_ took refuge after the betrayal at Alaska. On June Sixteenth, the Earth Forces launched a nuclear attack, and while most of the civilians had been evacuated to Ame-no-Mihashira, some still remained, and nearly the entire government of Orb perished, by their own choice." He turned to the monument, lightly running a hand down the endless list of names. "Throughout the subsequent battles, we were lucky; the only serious casualties of Mendel were my eyes, and we emerged from Zantetsuken and GENESIS Alpha battered but alive. But then... then came Jachin." He swallowed again, and his voice wasn't quite steady. "On September Twenty-sixth, we lost a number of our Astray and GuAIZ pilots, as well as the Bridge crew of _Asmodeus,_several crewmen on _Archangel,_ _Eternal,_ and _Kusanagi._ And... and..." The pilot's voice broke, tears threatening to escape before he could regain his control. "And the entire crew of the _Arkbird,_ including Lance Cooper."

He had to pause for a few moments before he could continue. "Sparky was... one of the best friends I ever had," he ace said haltingly. "We went through the Academy together, served together during the blockade, and were stationed together at Martius Three before the First Battle of Jachin Due. When the time came for me to form my own team, he was my first choice, as my exec, my tactical alter ego. Together, we put together the team that would soon be called the Gray Demons, selecting the best candidates we could find. That, unfortunately, included another friend of mine, Victor Tempest, whose insanity nearly cost me my life, but he redeemed himself in the end. But I digress. Sparky... was a fine pilot, a good friend, and an excellent ship captain. His integrity was without question, his loyalty absolute... and he will be sorely missed."

With that, Ken bowed his head and stepped away; there were others to be spoken of, like Tolle, but he was not the one to do the speaking. He'd considered Tolle Koenig a friend, but in truth had not taken the time to get to know him very well. _And now, I'll never have the chance..._

It was Sai who ended up speaking of Tolle, with -of all people- Dearka's encouragement. As he did, Yzak walked quietly over to Freedom's pilot. "Kira," he said quietly, a peculiar look in his eye, "there's something I have to ask you."

Kira tilted his head. "What is it, Yzak?" He had a hunch that he knew, though.

Duel's pilot glanced away. "That shuttle... the shuttle I shot down during the battle with the Eighth Fleet. Was it carrying troops?"

"No," Kira told him softly. "They... they were survivors from Heliopolis. After the colony collapsed, I found a damaged lifeboat, drifting in the wreckage, and brought it aboard _Archangel._ When we rendezvoused with the Eighth Fleet, they were transferred to the _Menelaos,_ and from there were to take a shuttle down to Earth." He looked down. "I was supposed to be on it, too..."

Yzak closed his eyes. "So Commander Le Creuset was right... I _did_ kill those people." He clenched a fist. "It wasn't supposed to be that way," he whispered. "Civilians aren't supposed to get caught in the crossfire; only soldiers should be on the battlefield..." He cursed under his breath, directing it both at the late, unlamented Rau Le Creuset... and himself.

"It's not your fault, Yzak," Cagalli told him quietly. "Even Kira has to admit that. You saw a military shuttle descending from an Earth Forces battleship; what else were you going to think? I'm not sure it's a good idea to take out your anger on something like that in the first place, but you certainly couldn't have known that it was full of civilians, not troops."

"Maybe not, but..." The silver-haired pilot sighed. "I guess that's a lesson to remember. That'll teach me to lose my temper in a battle..."

"I've run across worse tempers on the battlefield, Yzak," Ken told him, coming up behind him. "And better a nasty temper than outright insanity, like Victor Tempest and Rau Le Creuset." He frowned, recalling something else. "Speaking of those two defective clones..." The ace turned to where his siblings stood. "Hey, Sophia," he called, "did you ever crack the last of Metzinger's files?"

"Almost all of them," Sophia acknowledged, walking over with Mu. "Why?"

"Oh, just something that was never cleared up. It's mostly a matter of curiosity, but I'd be interested in knowing exactly how I came about. Was I cloned, or...?"

"You're not a clone, Falcon," she assured him. "If you were, you'd have manifested the accelerated ageing long since. No, you were born in a relatively natural way, via preserved genetic material from Mu's parents. Still a little out of the ordinary -I understand you were the 'prototype' subject for the artificial womb- but not a direct copy of anyway else. You're you, nobody else."

"Not that it was very difficult to figure out," Murrue said dryly. "As near as I can tell, Ken, the only personality trait you share with your father is a touch of his arrogance."

"More than a touch," Mu opined with a grin, "but at least it's better justified than our father's." He cocked an eyebrow. "By the way, what was up with that 'Major' business when your got here? I've never heard you call yourself _that_ before."

Ken smiled. "My new career, Mu; or one of them, anyway. Chairman Canaver has requested me -and I have accepted- to set up a new, third party paramilitary force, something supported by both Orb and the PLANTs but accountable to no one. According to her, she wants something like the True ZAFT faction to be around in case of future conflicts; a group that can intervene to support one side or the other, or neither, as the case may be. Apparently, she trusts my judgment in that regard. In any case, we've determined that it's best if the surviving Gray Demons just fade into obscurity now, so when I assume command of this new 'Section Nine', I'll do so under the codename Major."

Kira looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I should've known you couldn't stay out of the game for long," he said shrewdly. "Admiral Halberton told me about the difference between a soldier and a warrior, and I see he was right. If war comes again, you'll be right in the middle of it, won't you?"

"When, Kira," the ace said softly. "Not if. If you truly think the war we just won was the last, then you weren't paying any attention. Mankind will always find reasons to kill each other... and as long as there's breath in me, I'll continue to try and minimize the damage. I won't deny that battle is part of what defines me... but just as in the war, it's _duty_ that drives me." He shrugged then, pulled a flask of something alcoholic-smelling out of his uniform jacket, and took a careful sip. "Anyway, it's not like it'll be my _only_ job. Like I was telling Chairman Canaver earlier, I'm going into architecture, to help rebuild Orb."

"The great Grimaldi Falcon designing a city," Halberton chuckled, joining them while his flag captain and Natarle continued their own conversation. "I never would've believed it... but I guess even you need a rest, after your long mission."

"He does, Admiral," Murrue told him. "He does." She remembered how her love had collapsed into her arms after the Battle of Jachin Due, exhausted beyond belief. Had his sheer willpower been any lesser, she doubted he'd have made it as long as he had, fighting for so long.

"She's right about that, Lewis," Ken agreed quietly. "There's only so long a soldier can spend on the sharp end before he reaches his limit; I think I surpassed mine, in the end. I have every intention of doing absolutely nothing combat-related for the next six months or longer."

"Wise of you," Halberton said sagely, and turned to his old protege. "And what about you, Murrue? What are_your_ plans, now that the war is over?"

Murrue smiled, leaning her head against Ken's shoulder. "Well, first, I'm going with Ken on his vacation. After that... I wasn't always a soldier myself, you know. After graduating from the Academy, I was a reserve officer for most of the years before the war broke out, and spent my time as a school teacher. I think that would be a good thing to return to." She raised an eyebrow. "What about you, Admiral?"

"Me?" Halberton laughed. "Well, nothing so glamorous for me, I'm afraid. I'm just going to retire, and leave matters in the hands of you youngsters. I can't go home again, of course -the Earth Alliance would never let me back into the Atlantic Federation- but Chairman Canaver has graciously offered to let me remain in the PLANTs, among the people we all fought to save. I know, I know, I'm only in my late forties... but war is one thing you're never too young to retire from. Besides, how can I possibly top being involved in a battle like this one? It's a fine crowning achievement for my career."

"I agree, Sir," she said fervently. "You've earned your retirement, and then some." She looked over at Kira. "What about you, Kira? I can't see you staying with the military, unless something drastic happens."

Freedom's pilot smiled, tucking an arm around Cagalli's shoulders. "I'm going to Orb, of course, once the cities have started to rebuild. They're going to need Cagalli down there; that's why she was sent with us into space to begin with... and I'm not leaving her."

"If you did, I'd have Ken's new unit hunt you down," Cagalli growled.

Ken shuddered. "I'd do it, too; my partner is scary when she's in a bad mood..." He glanced at the son of his former friend and recent enemy. "And you, Athrun? Chairman Canaver was saying something about setting up a new identity for you..."

Athrun shrugged. "I don't really know, Falcon. Wherever we go, Lacus and I will be together... but we're not sure_ where_ to go. Even with a new name, the PLANTs may not be healthy for me, so..."

"We'll probably end up in Orb, too," Lacus put in. "My father's retiring, and moving there; it would probably be ideal for us, as well."

"You won't have any trouble there," Cagalli promised. So, I guess you'll be having a special election soon? I mean, with your father retiring, and Chairman Zala dead..."

"Yeah," Athrun confirmed, and glanced sidelong at the ace. "By the way, Falcon, you might want to hurry up about getting your new career going. I know it's only been a week, but I've already been hearing rumors of you being pushed for the post..."

Ken shook his head emphatically. "Not happening, Athrun," he said firmly; and, shooting Lacus a sharp look, added, "and you can tell your father to forget it, Lacus. I don't want the job."

She shrugged, with a faint smile. "Can't blame him for trying."

"Sure I can. In the first place, the same objections apply to this that do to my return to ZAFT: there's just too much bad blood. In the second place, I can't stand politics. I'll be better off countering terrorists and designing buildings, thanks."

"Your talents do seem to be in that area," Kira noted dryly.

Murrue smiled. "Which? Countering terrorists or designing buildings?"

"Both... except I wasn't thinking buildings, exactly." His own mouth twitched. "Buildings are too small-scale for that kind of ego."

Ken rolled his eye. "I think you can assume my ego's been suitably downsized, Kira; I'm very, very lucky I'm not dead, and my arrogance nearly cost us the rest of the world, too." He lowered his head a little, eye disappearing in the shadow of his dark brown hair. "A mistake I won't make again..."

He heard a throat clearing, and looked up to see Jason Chance coming over, Natarle in tow. "Excuse me, Comm- er, Major," _Odin_'s captain began, "but I understand you're setting up a new paramilitary organization?"

Ken raised an eyebrow. "Either word travels fast, or you have good ears, Captain. Yes, I am. Why?"

"Because my crew and I have run into a bit of a problem," the ex-Earth Forces soldier explained. "We seem to be unemployed at the moment, with nowhere to dock our ship... and the _Odin_'s maintenance costs are a little beyond the reach of a crew of unemployed spacemen." Chance smiled. "In other words, Major, if you're looking for recruits, we've got a shipfull of them, and even a mobile suit or two to go with."

The ace fingered his eyepatch. "It so happens, Captain Chance, that I find myself in possession of a space station that might serve nicely as dock for your ship. Welcome aboard." He tilted his head. "Though as far as mobile suits are concerned, it was my understanding that you only had the one pilot, and I haven't spoken with him..."

"Count me in," Morgan Chevalier told him, cigar clamped between his teeth as he and Cateau wandered over. "I don't trust the Earth Forces, and they wouldn't let me back in if I did... And besides, I ain't ready to retire. Putting out the occasional brush fire sounds pretty interesting."

"I'd like in as well, Sir," Cateau put in, with a sad smile. "I know you forgave me for the Bloody Valentine, but I still feel I must do my part... and while I may not be the finest mobile suit pilot in the world, I rather think you need ground combat specialists as well as ship crews and pilots. As it happens, I was Eurasian Federation Army Recon before becoming a mobile armor pilot, and I happen to know a thing or two about sniping and covert infiltration."

"Recon, eh? Hm; I was cross-trained in it myself, at the Academy... Well, I can't agree that you still have a debt to pay off, Lieutenant, but I'll be glad to have you." Ken chuckled quietly. "It seems the manpower side of things may not be difficult, at that. Which reminds me..." He raised his voice. "Tom, Leanne... and you too, Nicol. Over here."

"What's up, Boss?" Tom asked. "And is it just me, or is everybody starting to come over here?"

"Never mind that," Ken said dismissively. "I've got something to ask the two of you." He paused, thinking over his next words. "I... don't really have any right to ask you this," he said slowly, "considering how things turned out the _last_ time I asked you to do something, but... Could you two come with me? At Chairman Canaver's suggestion, with the support of both the PLANTs and Orb, I'm organizing a new paramilitary organization, to fulfil essentially the same function True ZAFT did during the war. It will probably be a little safer than that venture was, but..."

Leanne reached out and gripped her commander's shoulder. "We're with you, Boss," she said quietly. "We've followed you since the battles on the Grimaldi Front, taken your orders even into desertion and treason this past year. We're not just a team now... we're a family. We'll follow you to the end."

"Leanne's right," Tom agreed. "Following you's worked out so far; might as well see where the future takes us, eh, Boss?"

Ken swallowed. "Thank you, you two. Thanks a lot..."

"Count me in, too," Nicol requested. "I can't think of anything better to do with my time then to help protect the world... no matter what enemies we find along the way."

The ace nodded slowly. "I think this is going to work out, people. Let me say now, though, that this won't exactly be a full-time job. It's going to take months of preparation that we won't even be involved in to get the basics set up, and after that our Section Nine duties will only come up when there's a mission to carry out. We'll train often enough, but the only time we're likely to be on full-time operations is in time or war. So," he added with a smile, "Nicol can keep up being a concert pianist, Tom and I can help rebuild Orb, and Murrue can teach without too many interruptions."

"Probably fewer interruptions than the rest of you," Murrue said dryly. "I doubt I'll have _any_ real involvement except in wartime; I _am_ a shipboard officer, after all. I think _Odin_ can serve your transportation needs most of the time. And besides, we have... other plans for the _Archangel._ For one thing, we took a lot of damage in that last battle, which will take some time to make good."

"That's true." Ken stared moodily into the distance, remembering well the _Archangel_'s damage. _It would've been even worse,_ he thought, _if I hadn't put Preybird in that shot's path. They would all have died... just as I nearly did. How _did_ I survive?_ he wondered, not for the first time. _The timing... if my barriers hadn't blown at the precise instant they did, I probably would've been disintegrated... And what I saw afterwards..._

He honestly couldn't decide if what he'd seen had been a dream or not. Most certainly, every person he'd seen -or thought he'd seen- during that period was dead; he'd been there for their deaths. Still...

The pilot shook himself. _There are some things mortal man is simply not meant to know. Stay away from the metaphysical, O Falcon of Grimaldi, stick with the practical things like engineering._

Murrue lightly shook his arm. "Don't start getting moody on me, Ken; I don't want you to start thinking about kamikaze attacks again or something."

He laughed lightly. "The war's over, isn't it? I'm not crazy, Murrue." Ken glanced over at Yzak. "Speaking of the war being over, Yzak... what are your plans? I know your mother was arrested during Jachin, and you've maybe burned a few bridges, but..."

Yzak shook his head. "I'm not looking for a job, if that's what you're wondering, Commander. My mother was released as soon as it was clear she didn't know about Zala's plans, and Chairman Canaver has offered amnesty to ZAFT members who served with you. I'm going back, along with Shiho." He smiled sheepishly; an unusual expression for him. "I know she's one of your Demons, but..."

Ken shrugged. "Ex-Demon, Yzak, and not one of those who fought at Endymion. She'll be missed, but only three of us remain from _that_ group..." He rubbed his eyepatch. "What about Dearka, though? Any idea what he's going to do?"

"I'm going back, too," Dearka himself answered, coming toward them with Mir at his side. "I'd like nothing better than to join you in your new job, Falcon, but... it's not quite the path I need to take, I think. I'm a pilot, not a covert operative, and besides, with you leaving, _somebody_ needs to keep on protecting the PLANTs themselves."

"But only after a vacation," Mir put in quickly. "He'll be gone often enough as it is; I'm not about to let him go straight back to work after this."

Ken raised an eyebrow. "So, you two are... ah..." The faint reddish tinge to Dearka's face told him all he needed to know. "I see. Well, as a mutual friend -or at least, that's what I like to think I am- I have to say I approve... not that you need my approval."

Mir laughed. "That's right... but did you know there were rumors flying around about _us_ for a while?"

He blinked. "'Us'? As in, you and me? ...Why?"

"I heard about those," Kira noted. "That was before Alaska... before we left Africa, I think. It was probably Murdoch's people that started it, but whoever first thought it up, there were rumors you two were gonna get together. I guess somebody noticed you kept disappearing to someplace or other, and, well..."

Ken rolled his eye. "Oh. That. For your information, Kira, we kept disappearing in order to discuss the results of our impromptu spy operation. That was when we were beginning to be suspicious of Flay, and were keeping an eye on her." He rubbed his eyepatch, and went on thoughtfully, "I suppose the rumors might've made for good cover, though; always wise to have a plausible excuse for activity during an intelligence operation."

Mu laughed. "Yeah, I think you'll fit into covert ops just fine, little brother. Always use everything to your advantage, eh?"

"Yeah. Something like that." He turned, gazing thoughtfully at Flay and Sai. "I wonder what those two will do," the ace murmured. "The name Allster still carries quite a bit of weight in the Atlantic Federation, but I rather think Azrael's surviving confederates are unlikely to permit her to exercise that influence; not when she's been tainted by association with Coordinators. If she's smart, she'll disappear somewhere... and maybe Sai, too. I know most of us at Heliopolis had no idea they were once engaged, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was fairly common knowledge amongst the Atlantic Federation upper crust. That could make _him_ a target, too."

"Flay still has a place on the _Archangel,_ whenever she might want it," Murrue said quietly. "Sai, as well; and if she ever flies the skies of battle again, I'd hope to have them with us. The ship just wouldn't be the same without the old crew aboard..."

Ken nodded. "I know what you mean."

"I think we'll be assigning temporary protection to Miss Allster," Kisaka mused, also joining them. "Orb owes a debt to the _Archangel_ that it can never repay; but we will do what we can." He smiled faintly. "It's something we're good at, as I'm sure you recall."

The pilot nodded. "I remember."

Cagalli glanced curiously between her partner and her former bodyguard. "You know, I remember that you two acted like you knew each other, back in Africa, but you never did get around to explaining how..."

Ken shrugged. "Not much to tell, really. During my goodwill tour in Africa last year, the Colonel and I ran into each other, and had a... difference of opinion. At the time, I was less than impressed by Orb's neutral stance, and the Colonel was already in a foul mood about something; I later found out it was the Talbadiya incident. Anyway, his temper was a little frayed..."

"...And I thought I might take it out on a ZAFT soldier," Kisaka admitted sheepishly. "He'd just made a disparaging remark about our neutrality, so I took it as an excuse to work out some of my anger at the destruction in Talbadiya. I thought it would be over in a matter of seconds, but I must admit I underestimated the Commander."

The ace nodded sagely. "We came out of it with, between us, two black eyes, seven broken or fractured bones, three sprained fingers, a certain respect for each other's abilities, and a profound change in my opinion of Orb." He smiled ruefully. "As I remember it, I was rather grateful afterwards that Orb _wasn't_ involved in the war. Fighting the Colonel was not something I ever cared to try again."

"Nor I you, Commander," the bigger man asserted. "Especially after I noticed the sword you'd left within easy reach. I was rather thankful you preferred not to use firearms."

Ken's mouth twitched. "I suppose I should be grateful, too; having someone else in charge of _Kusanagi_ during those battles might've been a bad thing." He turned away then, glancing briefly at the empty graves, and then up at the sky, beyond which he knew lay the endless depths of his true home, the vacuum of space...

Murrue noticed his introspective. "What are you thinking about?" she asked quietly, as the others began to drift apart again.

The pilot smiled faintly. "Past. Present. Future," he said, echoing his words to her on the _Archangel_'s deck, months before, as they sailed over the Red Sea. "Mostly future, now. You know, until the moment I landed on the_ Archangel_ after destroying GENESIS, I never let myself dream I could _have_ a future... and now that I've got that chance, it's almost scary... It reminds me of a story I once heard about a woman who defected to the United States of America from the Soviet Union, in the mid-twentieth century. She ended up returning to the Soviets, because she couldn't handle the bewildering number of choices at the grocery store. That's kind of how I feel right now. I've got a future... and I honestly don't know what to do with it."

She leaned against his shoulder. "Well, that's something we'll have plenty of time to explore, Ken. Together..."

Ken nodded contentedly. _Together... that's something I thought I'd never experience again. After the Bloody Valentine... but that dream, or whatever it was, was right. It's time for me to move on. Goodbye, Laura... and thanks for everything._

Ken's past had been resolved at last. Now it was time to face the future.

* * *

Before the ace could face the future, however, there was one last thing he had to do. Later, after everyone else had left -with Murrue waiting for him outside the cemetery- the now officially-ex-ZAFT pilot stepped up to one particular headstone. 

Unlike many -perhaps most- of the graves in this place, such as the many for the victims of the Bloody Valentine, this grave was not completely empty. The body had been completely destroyed by the fierce heat of nuclear meltdown, but the man had left a single personal effect behind at the Gray Demons' Eyrie on the Moon: an expertly-crafted katana, with a red, twine-wrapped hilt and crimson scabbard. That blade now lay within the coffin, in lieu of the man's body.

The ace stopped before the headstone, straightened to attention, and snapped his right hand up in a perfect ZAFT salute. _Goodbye, my friend. I never imagined life without you around to help me out, but you did not die in vain. I'll never forget you..._

He lowered his hand, turned, and walked away from the grave... whose marker read: _Lance Cooper: In memory of a true Patriot who saved the world._

* * *

_"After the truce that effectively ended the Bloody Valentine War with the conclusion of the Second Battle of Jachin Due, a curious thing happened: with the exception of three members who returned to ZAFT, and a handful of highly-placed Orb soldiers and officials, every single member of the so-called 'True ZAFT' faction, widely believed to be the driving force behind the early end to the war, vanished without a trace. Attempts have been made to track down some members for interviews, but even of those who could be found, only Earth Alliance Forces Rear Admiral (retired) Lewis C. Halberton was prepared to comment on the group that is believed to have been the nucleus of True ZAFT._

_"'There's not much I can tell you, really,' Admiral Halberton said in response to questions. 'The Gray Demons were the people who started it all, but if you're looking for front-page heroes, you should look somewhere else. I know them well, their commander in particular, and I can tell you that none of the survivors have any interest in publicity. They did this to protect their Homeland, and now that they have, all they want is peace and quiet. Where they are now, well, that's not really something I can tell you.' The admiral also declined to comment on the disappearance of the Escort Ship _Odin,_ aboard which he spent the latter days of the war._

_"It seems clear, however, that Admiral Halberton was correct about the soldiers known among their peers as the 'Gray Demons' desiring a return to obscurity. No trace has since been found of Leanne Eldridge or Thomas Delaney... and the only sign of the so-called 'Grimaldi Falcon' has been a lack of information. We have attempted to obtain copies of his military records, but all of ZAFT's records on Kenneth DiFalco have mysteriously vanished, and none of the Earth Alliance's remaining records include a physical description. The only data we have is from interviews with ZAFT soldiers who served with or trained under Commander DiFalco, and they describe him as a tall, slightly-built young man with brown hair and an eyepatch... a description that has not been matched by anyone we've been able to locate._

_"Perhaps it's true Commander DiFalco is in retirement; if so, I cannot blame him. Rumors have it that he was personally responsible for the design of the weapon of mass destruction known as GENESIS, which the late Chairman Patrick Zala used on the final day of the war. According to what we've been able to ascertain, Commander DiFalco intended it originally as a way to the stars; and, after the Bloody Valentine Tragedy, a defensive weapon against invasion. When his leader chose to use it offensively, Commander DiFalco then assumed responsibility for it, and fought the remainder of the war against his own people, in order to stop his own creation. If that is so, then I can only say, in my personal opinion, that he deserves the rest. That is more of a burden than any teenager should ever have to bear... In any case, since September 26th, Commander DiFalco has not been seen to fly the skies of battle, and perhaps never will again._

_"In other, possibly related news, it has been publically announced that Orb and the PLANTs are jointly funding a new paramilitary organization to act as an impartial peacekeeping and counterterrorism force. With rumors beginning to surface that this 'Section Nine' has, as its transport, the aforementioned _Odin,_ very little has yet been confirmed. All that is known for certain is that Section Nine's commander is known only as 'the Major'..."_

-Excerpt from an article by freelance reporter Jess Rabble

* * *

Earth Orbit, Section Nine Headquarters, March 10th, C.E. 72

* * *

As usual, the room was dimly lit; both to see displays with greater clarity, and so that one of their number could dispense with his eyepatch with comfort. 

This was the first time they'd met here on true operational status; only now had the station -positioned in a standard orbit rather than at a Lagrange point in order to better facilitate access to trouble spots- been made ready. Months of work had been necessary to complete the modifications to the ex-Earth Forces space base, and technically, all five people in the room were still on vacation. They would meet today, and then go back to their lives.

"It's official," the brown-haired, blue-eyed young man called the Major said quietly; unlike his subordinates, who wore simple black base fatigues, he wore a slate-gray trench coat over his. "As of today, Section Nine is on operational status. Orb is beginning to provide their share of the funding, and Chief Representative Athha will be making an announcement about us tomorrow morning. Needless to say, that will be the only official notice taken of our existence, at least for the time being."

A twenty-ish man with iron-gray hair nodded. "In other words, we exist, but neither government will draw much attention to the fact."

"Correct."

Tom Delaney's companion, green-haired Leanne Eldridge, slightly older than the Major, frowned thoughtfully. "And the negotiations?"

"The Junius Treaty was signed this afternoon," the Major answered. "With that in effect, Gibraltar reverts to the Eurasian Federation, Carpentaria is returned to ZAFT, and Orb is once again an independent nation. Also, nuclear weapons are now completely off the table, as well as military usage of nuclear reactors by ZAFT or the Earth Forces." He smiled faintly. "Most people will doubtless assumes that applies to us, forgetting that while we draw support from two signatories of the treaty, we answer to none."

"Which is good," the blonde captain mused. "We still have several nuclear reactors in use at the moment." He tilted his head. "What about our status militarily?"

"Not good," the Major said unflinchingly. "We're fortunate things seem calm out there at the moment, because we took a lot of damage at Jachin. We have one combat-ready ship, your _Odin,_ and Tom's _Asmodeus_ is going to be in drydock for several months; losing the Bridge set off a number of problems elsewhere in the ship. We're also shorthanded as far as mobile suits are concerned. Our only X units are Nicol's Raiden, and my Preybird. Raiden is hardly enough by itself to fulfil our charter, and Preybird will be in for repairs even longer than _Asmodeus,_ especially considering the modifications I intend to make." He grimaced. "And, of course, there's the matter of personnel. We have three Gray Demons, Nicol, and the crews of _Odin_ and _Asmodeus._ And you, of course, Alley," he added, looking at the other woman in the room. "Not exactly a large force, when you consider that most of our operations will have the crews as little more than truck drivers for us."

"We do some recruitment, then," the woman, Alicia Cateau, said, with a noticeable French accent. "I have some experience in this area; for counterterrorism operations, we want to recruit SWAT and certain types of military personnel. With the generous amount of clout our charter gives us, we shouldn't have much trouble."

The Major nodded. "Good. I'll leave that to you, Alley. I may be somewhat experienced at covert operations, but I'm still new at genuine paramilitary activities."

She nodded. "Understood, Major."

"What about _them?"_ the captain, Jason Chance, questioned. "What are you planning to do with them?"

The Major's eyes narrowed. "Keep them frozen. We still don't know exactly what Metzinger and Hibiki did to them, after all; even now, we're none too sure what was done to _me._ Best guess is that I was supposed to be a soldier, and Metzinger wanted me back because he wasn't finished, making this war irrelevant to him... but that doesn't explain them. I want to know exactly what was responsible for the accelerated ageing, and what kind of genetic modifications were made. Oh," he added thoughtfully, "and we need to make sure to store Victor's head separate from the rest of him. I don't want to take the chance of someone finding a way to reattach it and resurrect him again. More to the point, _he_ wouldn't want to take the chance."

"And the other?"

"Old Metal Mask is an even greater concern," the Major said quietly. "I want to know _exactly_ what went on with him, and why he got as far as he did. I reached my position through strategic brains and the creation of GENESIS, but we haven't yet figured out how _he_ got in a position to influence the war as much as he was at the end. We vacuum all the records, and put his genetics under the closest microscope we can. Keep him on ice at least that long."

Tom nodded. "Got it, Major. I suppose your sister will be doing the investigation?"

The Major nodded. "Sophia's agreed to help us out that much; which if good, because she may not be a true geneticist, but she's the closest we've got that can be trusted with the examination of _him."_

"And for now?" Leanne asked.

"For now, we all go home," he said with a faint smile. "This isn't like the old unit; this isn't going to dominate our lives, at least not until the next outbreak of total war. For myself, I've got things to do, places to be... and people to get to know better." Ken DiFalco fitted his eyepatch into place, and turned up the lights. "By the way, Leanne, how are Kira and Cagalli?"

"Doing well,"she replied, as they began to file out of the room. "Cagalli's still coming to grips with her new position, of course, and Kira's still getting the hang of being a bodyguard... but he's had a couple of good teachers."

Ken chuckled. "Yeah, the Colonel taught him to guard, and I taught him to slice any would-be assassin. Even Kira agrees you don't dare risk trying nonlethal force in that kind of situation." He nodded to his comrades... his friends, really, and stepped out. "I'll be seeing you."

Murrue Ramius was waiting for him at the shuttle dock on the station's outer edge; unlike him, she wore civilian clothing. "Ready to go, Ken?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, smiling as he pulled her close. "Let's go home. It's time to forget about finding a reason to live, and just _live..."_

Ken was convinced he hadn't seen the end of his time in combat... but that was for the future. The future could take care of itself, and in the meantime, they'd be waiting... together.

* * *

Author's note: Peace has returned, and now the members of True ZAFT go their separate ways. Their time on the battlefield may not be over, but for now, their war is, at last, over. 

And so we come to the end of the story. Took me about twice as long to write as I expected, was about twice as _long_ as I expected, and I got about five times as much feedback as I expected. When I conceived this tale, originally as another attempt at a Wing Commander/Gundam SEED crossover (that's what gave rise to Brothers in Arms as well), it was intended mostly as a way to pass the time until I could begin Brothers in Arms: A Call to Arms. Instead, it grew into a tale nearly half a million words long, and I realized midway through that I'd never be able to concentrate properly on A Call to Arms until I finished this. Ken DiFalco's tale has been complex, engrossing, and occasionally frustrating for me, but it was well worth the trip... even if it did prove to be far more ambitious than was probably wise. It made saying everything that needed to be said far harder at times, because of the sheer scope of what I had going on, but I think I at least pulled it off reasonably well.

Now, I expect most of you remember that, near the beginning of this story, I stated there would not be a sequel. Well... that may not be true after all. I've had a number of requests for it, and I myself have become intrigued by the possibilities -I'd have no choice but to change a number of things about the Destiny time line right from the start, as this epilogue indicates- so it's likely Ken DiFalco's story isn't over quite yet. It will take a backseat to A Call to Arms, of course, as Kevin Walker's tale has always been my priority, but you won't necessarily have to wait until it's complete before you see Ken DiFalco again.

Oh, yes, you should be seeing a revised version of Chapter 45 soon; I need to make a couple of changes and add a scene, so you should be seeing new things in it soon.

I guess that's really all I have say now. This story has gotten attention far beyond my wildest expectations, and I thank all of you who reviewed. Until next time. _-Solid Shark._


End file.
